


Love in the time of corona

by Purple2015



Category: Peck and Stewart, Rookie Blue
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:47:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 34,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23474200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purple2015/pseuds/Purple2015
Summary: Toronto might be in the grip of a pandemic but Detective Gail Peck still has to front up for work. A call out to a homicide brings her face to face (or should that be mask to mask) with someone she hasn't seen for four long years
Relationships: Gail Peck and Holly Stewart, Gail Peck/Holly Stewart
Comments: 77
Kudos: 244





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I should be finishing off my update to Breaking Through but then this came to me. Let me know if you like it and whether I should continue

The uniforms had condoned off the alleyway. Not that there was much need. With the pandemic at its peak, the streets were deserted. Most people were following the directive to stay home unless to shop for food or other essential items. A small number still travelled to work unless they were lucky enough to clock in at home. Not really feasible for a homicide detective, Gail thought gloomily, as she parked next to the forensic van. 

At least she wasn’t partnered with Dov today. He had become near hysterical wiping anything she touched, from door handles to the steering wheel, with anti-bacterial solution. If Covid-19 didn’t kill her, the chemicals from the cleaning products would.

‘I know you’re a germaphope,’ Gail had said to Dov, ‘but isn’t this taking it to extremes even for you.’

‘You’ll thank me when you don’t die,’ Dov had retorted.

As she got out of the car, Gail pulled on a pair of disposable gloves. She did a quick scan of the perimeter. No sign of Frankie. 

Duncan was standing by the tape at the entrance to the alleyway.

‘Detective Peck,’ he grinned in that way which to Gail somehow always seemed like a cross between puppyish over enthusiasm and something a bit lecherous. ‘Forensics are here,’ he nodded towards the van. ‘But not Detective Anderson.’

‘You’ll make detective yet, Gerald,’ Gail said drily.

‘You think?’ Duncan brightened even more. 

Gail looked at him impassively and scooted under the tape.

‘Oh, oh,’ his face fell. ‘I guess you saw the van and—‘

‘Yeah, yeah,’ she flapped her hand dismissively. She wasn’t even sure why she was being so mean. It wasn’t like she didn’t know Officer Moore was an idiot or needed to rub it in. Fact was it seemed like she was permanently in a bad mood, so much so that it was even beginning to bother her. Maybe it came from living alone. 

When the government decided everyone should isolate at home, Gail wasn’t too worried. She was at work when the announcement was made. Chloe had regarded her forlornly and asked ‘how are you going to survive all alone by yourself?’ To which Gail replied, ‘I am going to revel in the fact that I do not have to make excuses to avoid seeing you losers socially.’ Chloe frowned sadly and then made as if to lurch towards her but Gail held up her hand in a stop gesture. ‘Social distancing remember. 1.5 metres. I wouldn’t want to have to arrest you.’

Outside of work, people had generally left her alone. Elaine had called once, if anything miffed that she’d been forced to cancel a date she’d set up for Gail with a rising star from the Attorney-General’s department. Like it was Gail’s fault that the coronavirus had halted Elaine’s matchmaking plans. ‘It’s not like I’m patient zero,’ Gail told her mother. ‘What?’ Elaine had asked, clearly not understanding what Gail was getting at. ‘Audra is going places and she’s easy on the eye too,’ Elaine had then chuckled uncomfortably as though admitting a woman was attractive might threaten her avowed heterosexuality.

Oliver had checked in a few times and Chloe too, though Gail had left her calls unanswered. Frankie fired off a message late one evening saying ‘I suppose a down and dirty booty call is out of the question?’. They hadn’t fucked in years, not since the brief dalliance after Holly left, and though Gail mainly couldn’t stand Frankie she was slightly tempted, if only for some physical connection. She might even have replied but then Frankie sent a second message with ‘oops, wrong number’ and Gail recalled the detective had started seeing someone called Gabriella, which explained how she’d hit Gail’s name by mistake. 

Gail and Chris had played some video games but he was married now with two kids and another on the way and didn’t have a lot of free time. ‘But you call me if you need anything and I mean anything,’ he had said to Gail, his brows knitting together earnestly. ‘Anything?’ she asked and he nodded so much she wondered if he’d ever stop. ‘So you’d bring me cheese puffs when the supply runs dry?’ Chris being Chris didn’t laugh or get annoyed that she wasn’t taking him seriously but instead looked offended. Had she hurt his feelings? Probably. It was a generous offer given he had his own family to think about and now she doubted she could call on him. 

So all in all, social isolation wasn’t quite what it was cracked up to be or more precisely what she’d hoped it would be. Gail Peck missed people, and it wasn’t just this fact but her annoyance at discovering it, that was making her mean and cranky. Yesterday Chloe had persisted in calling her ‘Detective Grouchy’ in a sing song voice and didn’t stop until Gail threatened to shoot her. ‘I’m sure the courts would see it as justifiable homicide,’ she smiled sweetly at Chloe, ‘I’m willing to take my chances.’

Even though it was a cool morning the alleyway smelled fetid. Not of a corpse but of the rotting garbage that overflowed the hopper bins belonging to the strip of now shutdown bars and restaurants backing onto the alley. Gail went to cover her nose but stopped. No face touching, even with gloves on.

The body was face down next to one of the hoppers right at the end of the alley. Gail guessed she should be grateful for the exercise. Even at this distance she could tell the man’s hair was matted with blood. Two forensic nerds were by the body. One was kneeling to take photos while the other, who had their back to Gail, sketched the scene. They were both wearing full protective gear—biohazard suits with hoods, googles, double gloves and N95 respirator masks—so Gail didn’t recognise either until Rodney looked up from where he was crouched down.

‘Detective Peck,’ he said, and even though the mask muffled his voice it sounded like he was smiling.

Before she could reply, Rodney’s colleague spun around so fast it almost made Gail dizzy.

‘Holly,’ Gail breathed, not quite believing what she was seeing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been overwhelmed by readers’ response to this and yes I will keep going. One of the reasons I started writing this is that in the midst of the coronavirus outbreak I’m finding it really hard to update Breaking Through which is set in a pre-pandemic world. Everything we do is now so governed by this scourge.
> 
> Anyway, I hope everyone is well and safe. Please take care. A huge thank you to any of you out there working on the frontline of this—without your incredible and selfless dedication things would be far worse.
> 
> Thanks for the comments, kudos, subscriptions and bookmarks. And of course, please comment—you can see feedback inspires me to write!

……..

Holly stood as if frozen. Gail tried to think of what to say. She actually had a lot of options, not least the question of what Holly was doing back in Toronto but Gail found her vocal cords were as immobile as Holly appeared to be. Rodney cleared his throat, filling the silence that stretched a beat too long so that it tipped from genuine surprise into awkwardness.

‘Welcome back,’ Gail finally found her voice. ‘I mean, are you back?’

‘Why aren’t you wearing a mask?’ Holly asked, ignoring Gail’s question.

Holly sounded neither annoyed or concerned, if anything her tone was detached. Perhaps she’d hoped to avoid Gail on what must surely be her first day back at the morgue. How had that happened without Gail hearing anything on the grapevine? Gossip normally spread around 15 like, like, well like herpes Gail decided just as she realised Holly was waiting for a reply.

‘Um mask shortage. It’s more important health workers get them.’

‘Here,’ Holly rummaged in her forensic kit—still a bright red lunchbox (which Gail found oddly comforting)—and fished out a mask.

‘Um, don’t you need it,’ Gail said, not quite reaching out.

‘It’s a spare. This is my crime scene and I say put it on.’

‘Your crime scene huh,’ Gail arched an eyebrow. Why the hell was she trying to flirt when Holly was standing there looking stern?

‘Take the mask.’

‘Okay, okay,’ Gail grumbled as she reached for it.

‘And make sure you fit it properly. It’s useless if it’s not tight enough.’

‘Yeah, yeah I know how to put a mask on, Holly. Are you worried this guy,’ Gail nodded in the direction of the body, ‘has Covid-19?’

‘Standard protocol under the current circumstances. That’s why we’re wearing full protective suits.’

‘Yeah, I know. It’s not my first rodeo since the pandemic. I’ve seen Rodney, um Dr Melham, cut a dashing figure in his PPE at quite a number of crime scenes.’

Rodney swallowed. Holly tilted her head to one side to regard Gail. Swathed as she was in protective gear, it was impossible to see if Holly was smiling. If anything, the whole scene looked quite surreal, like Rodney and Holly should be attempting a moon landing instead of standing next to a corpse in a grimy alleyway on a crisp Toronto morning. 

‘This looks straightforward,‘ Rodney ventured, indicating the body. Gail had learnt he was more comfortable discussing work than even the most banal detail of his personal life. ‘Blunt force trauma to the back of the head. No sign of a weapon in the immediate area.’

‘Great, we can send the rookies dumpster diving,’ came a voice from behind Gail. She heard Frankie rub her hands together gleefully.

‘Frankie,’ Gail tried not to grimace as she acknowledged her colleague.

‘Hey Peck, sorry about that booty call text the other night. Man, it stinks here.’ Frankie screwed up her face in distaste. ‘And where’d you get the mask.”

‘Um Holly, I mean Dr Stewart had a spare.’

‘You got a helper today Dr Melham,’ Frankie drawled, seeming to notice he and Holly for the first time. The way she spoke, it was like Holly was the work experience kid. 

Rodney swallowed again. Frankie had always intimidated him. ‘Ahh-aah, D-D-Doc-Doctor Stewart is actually my-my boss,’ he stammered.

‘Oh,’ Frankie drew out the sound to indicate understanding. She slowly appraised Holly from head to toe, stopping at Holly’s ankles where the legs of her protective suit were tucked into purple coloured plastic booties. ‘Nice shoes,’ she sniggered. ‘Doctor Stewart. Doctor Holly Stewart. Now where have I heard that name before.’ She paused and then began to smirk as she looked from Holly to Gail. ‘Oh, I know,’ she clicked her fingers. ‘You’re the one who popped Gail’s lesbian cherry.’

‘I never told her that,’ Gail said hastily. Her cheeks felt uncomfortably hot.

Holly didn’t reply. Beaneath his mask and goggles Gail could see Rodney’s face was as red as hers. Frankie smirked again. It seemed like her life’s mission was to make people uncomfortable.

‘You are?’ Holly asked. Gail had never heard her sound so haughty. Even Elaine would have been impressed.

‘Detective Frankie Anderson,’ Frankie said and then winked, ‘at your service.’

Holly said nothing.

‘I’d shake your hand but these days it’s not socially acceptable,’ Frankie said, not in the least deterred by Holly’s coolness.

‘Nothing about you is socially acceptable, Anderson,’ Gail said. She could have sworn Rodney suppressed a small guffaw.

‘You really need to get laid, Peck,’ Frankie made a sympathetic face as if she really did care about Gail’s wellbeing.

Holly shifted her gaze back to Gail, which made her cheeks heat up all over again. 

‘Okay, I’ll go round up the uniforms to search for the weapon,’ Frankie said, seamlessly switching into work mode. ‘Peck, you go with forensics.’ With that she strode back down the alleyway.

‘The morgue creeps her out,’ Gail explained. Rodney nodded in agreement. It was about the only thing he had over Frankie.

‘Whereas you like it there,’ Holly said.

‘It has certain attractions,’ Gail tried for a nonchalant shrug.

‘Yeah,’ Holly tilted her head to one side again.

‘Yeah, Rodney and I are locked in a progressive game of Pandemic.’

Holly laughed. ‘Oh, that’s you. I should have guessed.’

‘Why?’ Gail challenged, feeling some of her sass return.

‘For starters I don’t believe Dr Melham is that macabre, are you?’ she asked Rodney.

‘Um,’ he looked down shyly.

A few weeks ago—had it only been a few weeks, it felt like a lifetime—when the lockdowns were first coming into force, Gail was at the morgue waiting with Rodney on some results when quite out of the blue he had commented that people who played Pandemic could probably do a better job of containing the spread of the virus than most world leaders. Gail had never heard Rodney be quite so forthright and it led her to inquire if he owned a copy of the game. 

Playing Pandemic while actually living through one appealed to Gail’s perverse sense of humour. She was aware, though, that the sight of the board game on Rodney’s desk had unnerved some of his colleagues. ‘Know your enemy,’ Gail had said when he suggested it might be best to remove the game. ‘At least, you and I will be prepared, whereas those others,’ she paused then and shook her head sadly.

‘If you’re lucky we might let you join in,’ Gail now told Holly, ‘but you can’t be the scientist. That’s me.’

‘Big of you,’ Holly said, ‘a scientist huh.’

‘Yep,’ Gail popped the ‘p’. ‘Got a problem with that Doctor Stewart?’

Holly shook her head and then asked, ‘Have you played Pandemic Contagion.You’re the disease and the aim is to annihilate the human race.’

‘Under our stewardship, earth is doomed anyway, isn’t it Rodney. America has been decimated.’

‘Well, you did move all the research stations to Canada,’ Rodney pointed out.

Gail grinned fiendishly. Then down the alleyway came Frankie’s voice, loud and in that moment more grating than usual. ‘Oi Peck,’ she shouted.

Gail jumped as though Frankie was standing beside her and bellowing in her ear. ‘I better go,’ she said, glancing back to see Frankie gesticulating urgently.

‘See you at the morgue then,’ Holly said, and this time Gail was certain she was smiling.

‘It’s a dat—‘ Gail started to say but stopped just short of completing the word. ‘I mean, I’ll be there, of course. You know it’s my job and Frankie hates the morgue soo,’ she said in a rush, once more finding herself blushing. 

Holly laughed, and it was that laugh Gail remembered, that she would in fact recall at random moments or hear as she woke from a dream of Holly, always Holly. A laugh full of warmth and amusement and beneath that, at a deeper, richer level, a delight which Gail had always hoped was reserved for her. 

It made Gail think of languid summer days when it was impossible to have a care in the world, swimming out to the island opposite her parent’s cabin, catching her breath as she took in the grandeur of the forest stretching before her; of a roaring fire on a winter’s night; of the little kitten with which she was entrusted as a child; of bees in the lavender outside her grandmother’s kitchen on a fine spring day with the smell of freshly baked bread drifting through the open door; and of Elaine hugging her tight when Gail must have been no more than four. 

It was belonging. It was safety. It was wonder and joy, and that sense—no that gift—of being enveloped in care, and it was love. And it was a life she had known only in snatches until Holly held out the possibility of all those things. All those things for which, in Holly’s absence, her heart had never stopped aching.

‘I’m counting on it, Detective,’ Holly said.  
………..


	3. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the third instalment. Thanks for the comments, kudos, subscriptions, bookmark and for reading. I really appreciate it all. Hope you are all staying well and safe.

……….

Gail had plenty of time to think about what to ask Holly on the drive over to the morgue. However, on arrival she was ushered into a viewing booth with two layers of solid glass separating it and the Level 3 biohazard room it overlooked.

‘It’s for your protection,’ Holly explained, her voice sounding tinny coming through the speakers. She was wearing a waterproof gown over her surgical scrubs, which covered her entire body including her forearms, and on top of that a plastic apron. As well as a mask, she wore a face shield and a scrub hat, and she had swapped her purple boots for a pair of yellow steel-capped ones. 

‘We’re conducting all the autopsies here as a precaution,’ Holly continued. ‘Even though there’s no chance of this guy coughing, Covid 19 hangs around the body after death and it can be transmitted through blood and other body fluids.’

Gail nodded but of course Holly couldn’t see.

‘You okay in there?’ Holly asked as she snapped a pair of disposable gloves over the cut-resistant under gloves she had already put on. ‘If you need to ask anything, just press the intercom button on your left.’

Oh Gail had plenty to ask Holly but not here in front of Rodney and the tech.

‘Only three us in here today. We’re keeping personnel to a minimum.’ Holly said. ‘You know Mac’. She nodded toward the technician who acknowledged Gail with a half salute.

‘Yeah. Hey.’ Gail said and then realised she’d forgotten to press the intercom. ‘Hey Mac,’ she tried again, this time holding down the button firmly. Her voice boomed into the room making Holly and the two men jerk their heads up in her direction. ‘Sorry,’ she lowered her voice. ‘Is there a volume control for this thing?’

‘Yeah. I got it,’ Mac said, stepping over to a panel by the door.

‘Have you ever observed an autopsy in here before, Detective?’ Holly asked.

‘No, but Rodney gave me a tour when the facility opened.’

‘Oh okay. Well, did you know that to lower the risk of contagion, this suite has whole room ventilation. The draught passes from the ceiling down and across the table,’ Holly indicated the stainless steel table where the victim lay, ‘and then is sucked out at floor level.’

‘Enjoying the new morgue, Doctor Stewart?’ Gail teased, she herself delighted that Holly was getting her nerd on.

‘The word morgue doesn’t do it justice,’ Holly enthused.

It was a colossal building. All glass and steel, five stories high and 50,000 square metres with state of the art facilities to rival those at Quantico. Normally autopsies were conducted on the first floor, either in a massive suite where there were enough stations to examine ten bodies at once, or in the case of a homicide, in one of a number of single rooms. 

In addition to the autopsy suites and various labs, there was a firing range for ballistics testing and six garage bays in the basement where vehicles could be closely inspected. Not long ago, Gail was on a case where the victim was shot pointblank in the back of the head while sitting in the driver’s seat of his car. The entire vehicle, including the body, was trucked to one of the garages. It was kind of like bringing the crime scene to the forensics nerds, which even Gail had to admit was cool. 

Then, of course there were the containment rooms here on the third floor, which post-SARS were designed so autopsies could be carried out during outbreaks of infectious diseases. Had anyone imagined these rooms would be put to use so soon, Gail wondered. It wasn’t like the Covid-19 came out of the blue. For years epidemiologists had warned that these things were cyclical and the world was due an outbreak on the scale of the 1918 Spanish flu. Not to mention predictions that along with extreme weather events, the frequency of pandemics would increase with global warning. 

After touring the facility when it first opened, some of Gail’s colleagues had reckoned the containment rooms were a waste of money. ‘A white elephant,’ Frankie scoffed. ‘They said SARS was going to overrun the planet and it went away as fast as it appeared’. 

Gail wasn’t so sure. She remembered Holly telling her about the rise in disease outbreaks caused by animal to human transmission, how there were no known vaccines for coronaviruses, and how most scientists believed that it wasn’t a matter of if, but when a pandemic would hit. ‘And yet a whole lot of countries have cut funding to infectious disease research,’ Holly had sighed. Wasn’t that always the way, Gail pointed out, trying not to think too hard about the nightmarish scenario Holly had conjured. In 1918 the world was a smaller place and far, far less interconnected as it was today. With globalisation, it would be hard to keep a lid on an outbreak.

Gail was about to say something about the forensic department’s foresight and her finger was hovering over the intercom button when Holly spoke again. 

‘The chance to work here, well it’s a big reason I came back,’ she said.

Really Gail had no right to feel disappointed. Did she expect Holly to say she had returned for her? That after four years of radio silence she wanted to see Gail? For all Gail knew, Holly had a girlfriend or even a wife. Would Rodney have told her if Holly had a someone someone? 

Even after Holly left, Gail had found the morgue an oddly comforting place, which was surprising given most reminders of Holly were painful. So whenever she was sent to the morgue, Gail found herself hanging back, and Rodney would often be there, shyly asking how she was doing. Before long Gail started stopping by his desk, and after they were both promoted (coincidently in the same month) they regularly worked cases together. 

If Gail really thought about it, Rodney might be her most stalwart friend (and she wasn’t entirely sure whether in the first instance he had deliberately sought her out from pity). Two odd balls, she guessed. Despite that, Rodney tended to be guarded about Holly and for once Gail didn’t push, realising he struggled with divided loyalties. 

Of course had Gail stayed in contact with Holly she’d be aware of her relationship status. Holly was the type who’d have no issue with inviting exes to her wedding and had Gail received an invitation she was masochistic enough to have attended, most likely to disgrace herself by drinking the bar dry.

When Holly left for San Francisco, they had promised to stay in touch, after all they had been friends first, and with neither of them believing a long distance relationship was workable, friendship seemed like a sensible course. At least, that is what Holly contended, and persuasively too. 

It was late in the afternoon on the day before Holly was due to fly out. The two of them had spent much of the preceding two weeks in bed. Holly’s house was packed away in a moving van which was probably on a freeway halfway between Toronto and San Francisco, so they were crammed into Gail’s tiny room at the frat house. They had tried not to be too noisy but without much success judging by Dov’s disapproving frown and Chris’s blushes whenever the two women ventured to the kitchen for food. 

That final afternoon they were both sprawled naked on Gail’s bed. Gail was still catching her breath and when Holly leant over to kiss her, she could taste herself on Holly’s tongue. It was enough to cause a telltale ripple in her body. No more than a frisson but Holly noticed of course and smirked. Then quite abruptly she gazed down and started playing with a loose thread on the sheet.

‘We can stay friends after I leave,’ Holly said, her voice hopeful and small. She looked back up at Gail.

Where it had been knowing a moment before, Holly’s face was so vulnerable Gail didn’t have the heart to say no—or in fact the strength given she was coming off two very intense orgasms that had followed in quick succession. So Gail didn’t argue despite knowing it was impossible, and that they had never in fact been just friends. She said nothing, even though already the anticipation, never mind the actual fact, of Holly sharing stories of dates and new relationships, and really any scrap of information that indicated she had moved on, was unbearable.

Holly sent a text to say she’d arrived safely in San Francisco and then a photo of her new apartment with its view over the Bay Area. After that she would text things she thought would amuse Gail—weird stuff that happened at work or in the supermarket queue and ridiculous facts, but nothing too personal and not a word about missing Gail. And Gail followed suit. Between the time difference and Gail’s shifts, calling was difficult or so Gail convinced herself. 

Then Gail slept with Frankie after Andy’s wedding and she felt so guilty, like she had cheated on Holly, that she couldn’t reply to the next text, or the one after that or indeed any of the texts that followed. When Holly eventually called, not once but four times, Gail put her phone on silent. 

It didn’t stop Gail wondering, as winter settled in, whether Holly was coming home for Christmas. On the 24 December Holly sent a text wishing her a happy festive season and Gail replied with ‘ditto’. After that Holly stopped sending messages. Granted, it wasn’t the first time Gail had ignored her texts and voice messages and it was understandable Holly didn’t want to put herself through a repeat of that. Still, just like that first time, a part of Gail wished Holly had persevered a little longer.

Mainly though Gail believed it was for the best. Holly was sure to have found someone new and it was easier for Gail to imagine that in the abstract than to put a name, let alone a face, to an actual person. No doubt if Holly ever had cause to think or speak of Gail it was probably to wonder what she had seen in the prickly cop with too much baggage and too many walls. 

It didn’t escape Gail that she was possibly being unduly harsh on herself—after all she was expert at self-deprecation and self doubt—but no matter how much Holly said she regretted their parting, once she put some distance between them (2264 miles to be precise) she likely was relieved she’d dodged a bullet. Hadn’t every one of Gail’s exes come to exactly that conclusion.

‘Do you like it here as much the morgue?’ Holly’s voice coming through the speaker pulled Gail out of her thoughts.

‘Ha! I couldn’t live here if that’s what you’re asking. Too CSI,’ Gail said, once again forgetting to press the intercom. By the time she did, Holly was talking to Mac about a sample she’d taken from the body.

‘Um,’ Gail faltered. As one, Holly, Rodney and Mac looked up. It was a bizarre sight, each of them clothed in protective layers and wearing masks and face shields. ‘Sorry, nothing.’ Gail flapped a hand, which they probably couldn’t see, and then all as one they bent back over the body.

The autopsy didn’t throw up any surprises. Rodney’s initial assessment that the cause of death was straightforward proved correct.

‘Looks like the victim was hit from behind with something solid, maybe a brick or a large rock,’ Holly said. 

‘So he might not have seen his attacker coming?’ Gail asked. 

‘Possibly,’ Holly said. ‘There’s no other bruising on the body or on his knuckles.’

‘So that rules out a psychical altercation with anyone before he was murdered,’ Gail said. Holly nodded. Because of the visor and Gail’s elevated view from the gallery it appeared as though Holly’s head was bobbing up and down like a puppet.

‘The tox screen will tell us more but there is no indication of drugs or alcohol in his system. Plus he was wearing running gear.’ 

‘Doesn’t necessarily mean he was exercising.’ 

‘He’s got the muscle definition of a runner,’ Holly indicated the man’s calves.

‘Yeah, but that alley we found him in is hardly a running track,’ Gail pointed out.

‘Maybe he was avoiding the crowds,’ Rodney suggested. ‘Now all the gyms are closed you can’t go anywhere without having to dodge people running.’

‘Man, those runners are the worse,’ Gail exclaimed, her outrage exaggerated for Holly‘s benefit. She was fully aware Holly went for a run most days if she could fit it in. She heard Mac making noises of agreement. ‘They have no idea about social distancing. And Rodney told me droplets from runners can spray up to four metres.’

‘True,’ Holly agreed mildly but her tone made Gail think that beneath the mask and face shield she was smiling. ‘And while technically it would be possible to catch Covid-19 from a passing runner, it’s extremely unlikely.’

‘Yeah,’ Gail deliberately made herself sound doubtful.

‘With droplet spread, you need a fairly significant interaction to be susceptible to Covid-19 and the public health definition of a significant interaction is 15 minutes of face-to-face or two hours in the same room.’

‘So I take it you haven’t hung up your running shoes Doctor Stewart?’ Gail asked.

‘Only thing keeping me sane at the moment.’

So maybe there was no one at home, Gail thought. Unless this putative woman hadn’t followed Holly out from San Francisco yet. It was quite possible, especially as Canada had closed the border.

‘If the victim was out running, it could explain why he wasn’t carrying a wallet,’ Rodney said.

‘Unless his attacker took it,’ Gail pointed out. ‘Maybe this is just a robbery homicide. There are some desperate people out there right now.’

‘The victim also wasn’t wearing a watch but has a tan line that indicates he usually does. Plus there’s a mark on his ring finger. Either he removed his wedding ring before going running or the attacker did,’ Holly said.

‘So if he’s married, chances are someone’s missing him.’

‘Yep. From the looks of him, this guy had money. Top of the line running gear and extensive dental work. His hands are manicured and soft so he certainly didn’t do manual labour for a living.’

‘So if needs be we could identify him by dental records.’ 

‘Sure but most dental surgeries are shut. Only a handful are doing emergency procedures so it could be a while before we can locate the records.’

‘Can you hazard a time of death?’

‘Based on lividity and body temperature I’d say eight to twelve hours so sometime yesterday evening,’ Holly turned to Rodney. ‘Would you agree?’

‘Yes,’ Rodney concurred. ‘Rigour is almost complete too.’

‘Was there a CCTV camera in the alleyway?’ Holly asked.

‘Nope,’ Gail sighed. ‘But Frankie’s checking out other cameras in the area. With any luck one of them picked up the victim.’

It was well after lunch when the autopsy finished. Rodney had started sewing up the body and Holly was talking to Mac so Gail took her leave. 

‘Oh, hey Gail,’ Rodney called out just as she was about to exit the viewing gallery. He sounded hesitant but then spoke in a rush. ‘Doctor Achebe is writing an article about that case you two worked together. She was wondering if you could swing by to talk about it.’

‘Sure,’ Gail said. She couldn’t understand why Rodney suddenly seemed so nervous. 

Even though Holly was apparently deep in conversation with Mac, she must have overheard Rodney and Gail’s exchange because she now made the oddest comment. ‘Don’t forget to maintain a social distance, Detective,’ she said.

‘If you like I’ll wear one of your hazmat suits,’ Gail sassed.

Helene Achebe was a petite woman with black hair cropped short around an elfin face. She was keenly intelligent but despite having a mind that worked in overdrive, she radiated calm.

‘Ah Detective,’ Helene said when Gail tapped on the open door of her office. ‘Just the woman I want to see.’

‘I’m not sure how I can help. You know the science is way above my head.’

Helene looked at her skeptically. ‘When it comes to forensic pathology, you’re one of the smartest detectives I’ve ever worked with.’

Gail shrugged. It felt as though her insides were squirming. Despite her braggadocio, she actually found compliments hard to accept. Her therapist believed it was because Bill and Elaine weren’t in the habit of giving them. When she asked Gail to recall a genuine compliment from her childhood, Gail drew a blank.

‘Anyway, the article isn’t for a medical journal,’ Helene continued. ‘The Toronto Star has asked me to write a feature for the weekend paper so it needs to be written in layperson’s terms.’

‘You want help with that?’

‘No,’ Helene smiled. ‘I don’t think I need a translator but I am trying to avoid jargon so once you read the article please tell me if I do! No, I was wondering if you could check that the details of the police investigation are right.’

‘No problem,’ Gail said.

Helene held out a sheaf of papers but Gail shook her head.

‘Did you know a professor at a university in Australia contracted Covid-19 after flipping through a textbook handed to him by an infected colleague.’

‘I can see how you’ve been spending your time in iso,’ Helene laughed.

Gail shrugged. ‘Just staying informed.’

‘I’ll email the article to you.’

Gail had half turned to leave when Helene spoke again.

‘Hey, you know Doctor Stewart from when she worked here before.’

‘Um, yeah,’ Gail answered warily as she turned back. She’d forgotten Helene had started in the forensics department after Holly left.

‘What’s she like?’

Gail shrugged again.

‘Come on Detective. Doctor Stewart is my new boss. Is there any dirt I need to know? I mean, why did she take off so suddenly for San Francisco after she’d only been here a few months?’

Why indeed, Gail thought. ‘There are no scandals if that’s what you’re asking. Wait, Holly, I mean Doctor Stewart is your boss. Does that mean she’s taken Doctor Roberts’ job?’

Doctor Roberts was a crusty old guy, with a face that was permanently beet red and fingers stained yellow from nicotine. You could always tell if he’d just left a room because it smelled like an ashtray. He was old school and arrogant, and saw the police an irritant rather than colleagues and had to be pushed to explain his findings intelligibly. 

Then just before the pandemic hit, Doctor Roberts had a heart attack. He was was found with an unlit cigarette jammed in his mouth and a tumbler of whisky and an overflowing ashtray by his side. ‘I guess he died doing what he liked best,’ Gail observed to Rodney, who sniggered despite his best efforts to maintain a straight face. Roberts had been a relentless bully and unfortunately for Rodney he was often a target.

‘Yeah, she replaced Doctor Roberts,’ Helene said. ‘It’s a six month contract. Once things get back to normal they’ll run a proper recruitment process. Apparently Doctor Stewart was in Toronto when the pandemic broke out and decided not to go back to the US. Can’t say I blame her.’

‘She has family in Toronto.’

‘So spill. I sense there’s a story here.’

‘You’ve got a lurid imagination for a forensic nerd,’ Gail deflected. ‘But, she’s fair, dedicated, smart and excellent at her job. The department would be crazy not to hang onto her.’

‘You sound like quite the fan,’ Helene said.

‘Just giving you the facts. Not that I want to speak ill of the dead, but anyone would be an improvement on Roberts.’

Helene smirked. ‘That’s exactly what I was thinking. And his replacement is much more attractive, don’t you agree.’

Had Helene just winked at her? Gail wasn’t certain but she could feel a blush starting to creep up her neck so she gave a little wave and backed out into the corridor. As far as Gail knew Helene was straight but then again she had believed that of herself until she meet Holly. Why did she care anyway. It was not like Holly had come back for her. If anything, based on what Helene said, Holly’s return was accidental. So what right did she have to feel disgruntled if Helene was interested in Holly? 

Gail was almost out of the building, in fact had reached the vast, light-filled lobby when she heard her name. Spinning around, she saw Holly walking towards her, no longer in her PPE gear but blue jeans, boots and a shirt unbuttoned enough to give a hint of cleavage. Some things never change Gail thought. Nor it seemed did Gail’s reaction to the sight of Holly. Her pulse quickened and she found herself smiling widely without consciously intending to. When Holly smiled back, Gail experienced such a rush of happiness and relief it made her lightheaded. 

Holly stopped just short of Gail—in fact the requisite 1.5 metres for social distancing. Her hair was shorter, but other than that and a few additional laugh lines around her eyes, Holly hadn’t changed a bit.

‘Hey,’ Holly smiled again. ‘If we’re going to be working together, which is likely given you’re a homicide detective and it looks like I’m going to be here for a while, I thought maybe we could talk. Can we talk? You know catch up, grab a drink—‘ she faltered then. 

‘Kinda not allowed at the moment,’ Gail pointed out, not meaning to sound like a smartass but that’s how it came out. ‘Anyways all the bars are shut for the foreseeable future.’

‘Yeah, I know. Of course. I don’t know why I said that,’ Holly pushed her glasses back up her nose. She made a face as though embarrassed, although it wasn’t clear whether because of her gaff or Gail’s apparent rebuff. 

‘Habit,’ Gail suggested, noticing the slight sag of Holly’s shoulders that hinted at disappointment (although she could be overanalysing things) and wanting to make up for her snippy comment. ‘Even with social distancing, people still automatically stick out a hand to shake yours.’

‘I’m not a fan of the elbow bump.’

‘Me neither,’ Gail said.

‘And I’m not in the habit of asking everyone I meet for a drink,’ Holly tilted her head to one side, her lips quirking just a little. Gail was sure Holly was teasing her but didn’t mind because it meant Holly was over her embarrassment.

‘You know,’ Gail said, hoping she was right to think Holly had been disappointed before, ‘we could always catch up for a drink over FaceTime or Zoom, which I hear all the kids are doing these days.’ She grimaced then. ‘Dov’s on another trivia kick and he and Chloe forced me to do a Zoom trivia night.’

‘Must have been tough,’ Holly said with faux sympathy.

‘I consoled myself by having a shot every time I didn’t answer a question. If we hadn’t been cut off after 40 minutes because Dov was too tight to upgrade to the premium version of Zoom I may well have passed out before the game ended.’

Holly laughed. ‘I don’t know what I should be more worried about—the fact that you were drinking that much or making no effort to answer any questions.’ It was obvious Holly meant to be lighthearted but the words, or at least the sentiments behind them, seemed overly familiar.

‘You don’t need to worry about me at all,’ Gail replied stiffly.

‘Yeah. Right. Of course.’ Holly ducked her head and then pushed her glasses up her nose again, even though they hadn’t slipped. She once more focussed on Gail, and somewhere between looking away and then back, she gathered some resolve. ‘So I’ll call you then?’

Gail nodded, not trusting herself to reply knowing she was bound to sabotage whatever this was before she had a chance to find out what (if anything) Holly wanted from her.

‘When’s a good time?’ Holly was tilting her head again. It was enough to make Gail’s heart constrict. This was why she couldn’t be friends with Holly. Normally Gail was in command of her emotions—after all she had been brought up by Elaine Peck—but it seemed when you were still in love with someone their every gesture just served to remind you of why you couldn’t move on.

‘You decide Stewart,’ Gail shrugged exaggeratedly so Holly wouldn’t see her stuttering heart. ‘My number hadn’t changed. And unless there’s a break in the case, I’ll be home every night in self-isolation.’

‘Okay it’s a da—‘ Holly stopped and then added hastily, ‘I’ll definitely call.’

With Holly’s olive skin it was hard to tell but Gail was sure she detected the slightest blush on her cheeks.

‘Will you pick up if I call?’

‘Yeah, of course,’ Gail bit her lip. ‘Look, I’m sorry that I didn’t, you know, before—‘

Holly cut in before she could finish. ‘I get it Gail,’ It wasn’t said sharply, more with a sense of resignation. Holly’s face softened. ‘I understood.’

Was Holly letting her off that easily, Gail wondered. Her behaviour had been unforgivable, especially as it was the second time she had frozen Holly out.

I should get back,’ Holly pointed to the lifts, her movements jerky. 

‘Yeah,’ Gail said, ‘me too.’ Was it wishful thinking or did Holly actually seem reluctant to leave. There was definitely the sense of things left unsaid. It was almost palpable, like something that lingered about them. Most probably it was just that Holly was keen to clear the air as soon as possible so they could establish a professional working relationship. It was what adults did, wasn’t it?

Only when she was in the car and heading out of the lot did it occur to Gail that in order to discard all that protective gear, wash up and then catch her three floors down, Holly must have moved with lightening speed. Sure Gail had spent time talking to Helene. Plus she had stopped outside the containment room to call Frankie, but it was a brief exchange which she cut short as soon as Frankie started asking if she was enjoying cozying up to the good doctor. So all in all, Holly made record time. It had to mean something, didn’t it? 

For the first time since this miserable virus had emerged and literally overnight altered life as people knew it, Gail felt a little ray of hope. But then who was she kidding. In Gail Peck’s world, now or pre-virus, hope was usually swiftly followed by crushing disappointment so why would this be any different.

…………

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think. I love hearing from readers.
> 
> Will Gail answer Holly’s call…and if she does, is it a date?


	4. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments, kudos, follows, bookmarks and for reading. Hope you enjoy this next chapter. Let me know what you think.

…………….

‘I heard you saw Holly’, Traci said as Gail entered the detective pen. Gail glared at Frankie who busied herself with something on her computer. ‘She seems good.’

‘Wait, you knew Holly was back?’ Gail asked.

‘Found out yesterday,’ Traci said. ‘I mean that she got the job. I knew she was out here visiting her folks.’

‘Oh’, was all Gail could muster. If Traci knew all that it surely meant she’d kept in contact with Holly, which also meant there was a lot she’d been keeping from Gail.

‘I didn’t think you’d have a problem with it.’

‘No,’ Gail screwed up her face, ‘but a heads up from a friend might have been nice.’

‘Still stuck on the doc,’ Frankie said without looking up from the computer. ‘Ha! I knew it.’

‘See what I have to work with,’ Gail jerked her thumb in Frankie’s direction. 

Infuriatingly Traci just smiled.

‘You love me Peck,’ Frankie said so loudly that a fresh-faced rookie, who happened to be passing the detective pen, started and then coloured. 

The police department had responded to Covid-19 by firstly advising officers to maintain social distance (and that worked really well when you cuffed a suspect), secondly installing sanitiser dispensers at the entrances to each station, and thirdly placing all the desks two metres apart. For some reason, the new distance made Frankie think she had to shout even though the size of the detective pen remained unchanged.

‘So Frankie filled me in on the autopsy results,’ Traci said. She had recently been appointed head of detectives, a promotion Gail believed couldn’t have gone to a more deserving person. It didn’t sit that well with Frankie though. Rumour had it she had applied for the job.

‘It could just be a robbery gone wrong. The victim wasn’t carrying a wallet or phone and he’s missing his watch and wedding ring,’ Gail said. ‘Then again, he was wearing running gear so if he was exercising he may have left those things at home.’

‘Wedding ring,’ Traci mused, ‘chances are his spouse will report him missing.’

‘Unless the spouse was happy to see the back of him. I don’t have to tell you iso has seen a spike in domestic violence.’ Frankie spoke at such a volume it would be a miracle if the two officers at the desk out front didn’t hear her. Quite possibly it was loud enough to wake the dead. Even Traci winced. ‘Nothing like happy families,’ Frankie added sourly.

‘Good thing you live alone Anderson,’ Gail said.

‘At least I haven’t bought that crock about the one,’ Frankie did air quotes around the word one, ‘out there waiting for me. Speaking of—‘ she paused.

‘Speaking of what?’ Gail asked.

‘Your Ms Right, did she say whether the victim tested positive for coronavirus,’ Frankie boomed again.

Gail rolled her eyes. She’d walked right into that. ‘The pathologists, Doctor Stewart and Doctor Melham, found no sign of infection in the lungs and the test came back negative.’

‘So all those masks and silly suits and over priced containment rooms were for nothing.’

‘It’s protocol, Frankie,’ Traci was beginning to sound exasperated. 

Clearly in Gail’s absence, Frankie had been bending Traci’s ear about how the money spent on the forensic department’s state of the art facilities was (no pun intended) overkill and could have been put to better use funding much needed police resources. It was among Frankie’s ever growing list of pet gripes. Her latest being the $500 million grant for the arts announced by the Prime Minister to help the industry weather the lockdown.

‘Any luck with the dumpster dive?’ Gail asked.

‘The rookies are still at it. I didn’t see any point hanging about,’ Frankie said. ‘And now you’re back Peck, you can help me review this CCTV footage. Settle in. There’s hours and hours of it. That alleyway is surrounded by a helluva lot of streets.’

Traci stood. ‘I’ll leave you to it. I have to go collect Leo from Dex’s. I won’t be in tomorrow unless you need me. It’s my turn to home school,’ she said without much enthusiasm.

‘That bad huh,’ Gail said.

‘Let’s just say, much as I love spending time with my son, I’ve come to realise how undervalued and underpaid our teachers are. Anyway, keep me posted.’

‘Say hi to Leo,’ Gail said as Traci made her way out.

‘How old is her kid?’ Frankie asked once Traci was out of sight.

‘Sixteen.’

‘And she’s still bothering to home school. Wasn’t Nash knocked up at that age.’

‘She was nearly eighteen,’ Gail said, even though Traci had been closer to seventeen but Frankie didn’t need to know that. ‘And I’m sure you were having sex by then.’

‘My word yes.’ Frankie drew out the words suggestively. ‘But I was smart enough not to get pregnant.’

‘Maybe you skipped this in biology, Anderson,’ Gail said with faux sweetness and as though Frankie were something of an imbecile, ‘but it doesn’t work that way with two women.’

‘You’re freaking hilarious Peck.’

With that the two turned back to their computers. It was tedious work and though it required complete focus Gail’s thoughts kept wandering back to Holly. Traci was right Holly was good. Damn, she even looked good. Clearly not suffering from Gail’s absence in her life. 

It was difficult then not to chew over every word they had exchanged in the alleyway and then back at the morgue (Gail persisted in calling it that even though it was significantly grander), and to wonder anew what Holly’s request to catch up meant. Gail swung between a hope that burned so bright and so hot it practically had her jumping out of her skin and a conviction that she had so badly fucked things up that Holly would surely want nothing to do with her outside of work. It took all Gail’s willpower to remain seated and not succumb to one of two opposing (though equally unbridled) impulses to leap up and whoop or bash her head against the desk.

A good hour and a half passed, punctuated by Frankie yawning and stretching, and finally slouching out of the pen to get a coffee which she proceeded to slurp loudly. Was every sound she made amplified? Gail suspected Frankie was doing it deliberately to annoy her. If Frankie was bored she liked nothing better than to create mischief.

The footage was mind numbingly boring. Most of the good citizens of Toronto were observing the lockdown (nothing like fear to engender compliance), so apart from the odd car, bike couriers delivering takeout, people walking their dogs and those ubiquitous runners, the streets were relatively empty. Again Gail became so caught up in thinking about Holly (stupidly she’d moved on to remembering what it was like to be kissed by Holly), that she almost missed it. 

‘Hey Anderson,’ Gail called out, ‘I think I’ve got something.’

And there was the victim, jogging rather than running, past a 7-Eleven on a street that ran at a diagonal to the alleyway where he was found. A man in an oversized hoodie appeared at the store entrance and called out as though in recognition. The victim clearly didn’t hear because he kept moving. After a moment the hooded man took off after him at which point they both disappeared out of the camera’s range.

‘Can we see a face. Zoom in,’ Frankie said.

Gail did as instructed. ‘Shit, he’s wearing a mask.’

‘Okay let’s back up the video. See if we can get a better look at him going into the store.’

The hooded man had crossed the road just in front of the store, so apart from a brief glimpse of his profile, all Frankie and Gail saw was his back.

‘Any other traffic cameras between here and the alleyway?’ Gail asked.

Frankie went back to her desk and consulted a list. ‘Nope,’ she sighed.

‘What about the 7-Eleven? They’ll have security footage.’

………….

‘Yeah I remember him,’ the manager of the 7-Eleven said, gesturing to the computer screen where the hooded man could be seen reaching for a carton of milk in the refrigerated section.

Frankie and Gail were crammed into a tiny office with the manager reviewing the footage from the night before. Actually cupboard might be a better description for the room, Gail decided. The three of them were so close that she could probably figure out from his breath what the manager had for lunch (definitely something with garlic). So much for social distancing.

‘I was about to serve him when he dumped the carton of milk on the counter and walked out,’ the manager said.

‘Anything happen in the store that could have annoyed him. Like was the queue especially long?’ Frankie asked.

The manager shook his head. ‘Have a look for yourself. There were only four people in here and your guy was one of them.’ He held out his hands in front of the screen in a gesture of helplessness.

‘So any idea why he walked out.’

‘I got the feeling he was distracted by something.’

‘Like a person?’

‘I dunno,’ the manager shrugged, ‘Maybe he remembered he’d left a pot on the stove or something.’

‘If he comes back in will you call us,’ Frankie reached into her pocket to pull out a card which she offered to the manager.

‘Detective, do you know how many people walk in here everyday wearing a hoodie and mask? I probably wouldn’t recognise this guy if I fell over him.’

On the way out Frankie took the opportunity to stock up on toilet paper. She was lucky, the clerk stacking the shelves told her, because a shipment had just come in. 

‘You’re only allowed one packet,’ he said apologetically as Frankie reached for more toilet paper.

‘One for my friend,’ she grinned and indicated Gail.

‘Frankie, I don’t need—‘ Gail started but Frankie cut across her. Of course she wasn’t buying toilet paper for Gail.

‘No, no it’s fine. I’ll pay for it,’ Frankie said with a great show of magnanimity, as she retrieved the second pack. ‘I insist.’ 

Gail rolled her eyes. The toilet paper shortage was another of Frankie’s bug bears. For once, Gail was in agreement. There was only a shortage because of panic buying. She had read it all started because Hong Kong, who sourced its toilet paper supplies from China, was cut off when the border between the two countries closed. So while Hong Kong actually had a real shortage, it kicked off a chain reaction across the world that left supermarket shelves bare and people in the aisles fighting over the last toilet rolls. Just last week, Chris and his rookie were called to break up a brawl in Foodlands.

However, despite her grumbling about people’s idiocy, Frankie it seemed was indulging in some hoarding of her own. Currently she was looking insufferably smug.

‘Well that was a bust,’ Gail sighed as they reached the car. 

‘At least I scored some toilet paper.’

‘And maybe a dose of coronavirus. The three of us were practically sitting on each other’s laps in that fetid little room.’

‘Geez, you’re beginning to sound as paranoid as Dov. Anyway, that guy didn’t seem sick.’

‘That your professional opinion Doctor Anderson,’ Gail drawled. ‘Have you heard of the silent spreaders. The people who show no real symptoms and have no idea they have the virus.’

‘Oh my god Peck, you make it sound like we’re in some kind of horror movie.’ Making her eyes wide and her voice voice spooky, Frankie added, ‘The zombie apocalypse.’ 

‘Have you been living under a rock?’ Gail asked as she wrenched the passenger door open. It always stuck a little and Frankie was either too lazy or tight (or maybe both) to get it fixed.

‘I predict in a year’s time this will all be a distant memory,’ Frankie pronounced. She looked sideways at Gail, smirked and continued, ‘You know President Trump said—‘

‘Seriously you listen to that orange person,’ Gail exclaimed, ‘the guy’s a quack. He told people to inject disinfectant.’

‘Knew you’d bite,’ Frankie sniggered as she started the car.

Gail look out the window gloomily. Rise above it she told herself. At this rate she’d be begging to be partnered with Chloe.

‘You know,’ she finally said, deciding it was better to focus on the case than engage in an ongoing battle of words with Frankie, ‘in the traffic cam video it looked like the victim didn’t hear the guy from the 7-Eleven call out to him.’

‘So,’ Frankie said. 

‘So maybe he was wearing headphones, which means he probably had a phone on him.’

‘So what, we’re looking at a straightforward robbery.’

Gail was tempted to point out that there was nothing straightforward about murder but restrained herself. Maybe she was growing up. ‘Or somebody didn’t want us to find their contact information or incriminating messages.’

‘Far fetched,’ Frankie said with a finality that annoyed Gail. With so little traffic on the road they had already reached the station. ‘Let’s call it a day Nancy Drew,’ she added.

Gail rolled her eyes. 

It was dark by the time Gail arrived home. On the drive over it occurred to her Holly might call tonight but then she quickly dismissed the idea. Surely it was too soon. In any case, Gail wasn’t certain if Holly would call to arrange a time to talk or just simply call to talk. As she opened the door to the apartment, Gail heard a noise in the bedroom. Harley. Well, at least someone was happy to see her. That made her smile.

……………..

Gail was woken by her phone ringing. She reached out for it on the nightstand, still groggy with sleep. 

‘Hey Peck,’ Frankie said as Gail brought the phone to ear. The detective sounded awfully chipper for this early in the morning.

‘Shit Anderson. What time is it?’

‘And good morning to you too Peck. I’m not your personal alarm clock but it’s ten past seven. Sleep in did we?’

‘What do want Anderson?’ Gail asked, ignoring Frankie’s barb.

Harley, who had moved in the night so she was half on top of Gail made a mewling sound but didn’t wake. Even Gail had to admit it was sweet. 

‘You got someone there,’ Frankie sounded knowing now as if this explained why Gail wasn’t out of bed. ‘If it’s who I think it is you move fast.’ Frankie said with something like admiration.

‘What do you want?’ Gail repeated.

‘We got an ID on the victim. Paul Markus. Thirty-two. His husband, Ray Leeson, reported him missing late last night. Ray agreed to be at the morgue at 8 am to formally identify the body. Can you make it there by then? I called the doc and set it up.’

‘Sure,’ Gail said, easing herself from under the covers so she wouldn’t disturb Harley, who stirred a little but didn’t open her eyes. Given there were so few cars on the streets, if she skipped breakfast and had a quick shower, Gail thought she could get to the morgue in plenty of time.

Of course, Frankie would send Gail. Considering her reluctance to set foot in the morgue, who knew what possessed Frankie to become a homicide detective. Then again, she was kind of perverse that way. 

‘Oh and Ray is worried about coming down to the station for an interview and doesn’t want us in his apartment either—he’s way more paranoid than even you and Dov, which I didn’t think possible.’ Frankie paused, waiting for Gail’s retort, and then continuing when Gail didn’t reply. ‘Anyways, can you interview Ray at the morgue? If you think anything is off about him, we’ll insist he come down to 15.’

‘Okay. How was he when you spoke to him? Upset?’

‘More disbelieving. Like a mistake has been made and the the victim probably isn’t his husband. But I saw the photo—it’s definitely Paul. And according to Ray he’s been missing since he went out running at 6 pm yesterday.’

…………………..

Before getting out of the car, Gail looked in the rear view mirror and patted down her hair. It was still damp from the shower and sticking up in places. She was wearing a pair of black jeans, black lace-up boots with white stitching, a long-sleeved top and a mid-length green suede jacket. Gail knew she looked good—well apart from the recalcitrant strands of hair—in fact had chosen her outfit carefully on the off chance she might see Holly. 

Normally techs like Mac handled the victim ID, but sometimes, if they weren’t too busy or the victim’s family requested it, one of pathologists would also be present. Who was Gail kidding. Logically Rodney, as the junior pathologist, was more likely to show. Although that gave Gail an idea. She could try and pump him for Information about Holly’s sudden appointment. Rodney owed her that much at least, not that he would see it that way.

When Gail entered the lobby, still smoothing her hair, there was Holly holding two cups of coffee. When she caught sight of Gail she smiled, angling her head very slightly. It was enough to make Gail’s stomach flip, beset by a fierce combination of nerves and excitement that made her incapable of formulating speech. Actually, forget flips, her stomach was doing cartwheels. Settle, settle, Gail chided herself.

‘Hey,’ Holly said, holding out one of the coffee cups as though they had arranged to meet. ‘I thought you could use this. Still a double shot espresso first thing in the morning?’

‘Coffee!’ Gail exclaimed as she took the proffered cup. ‘I think I love you!’ She went crimson. Had she really just said that? The word seemed to take shape and float in the space between them, untethered and unclaimed. Gail imagined it to be as large as the lettering on a bill board, but written in cursive, decorative font and psychedelic too like something from the sixties, whimsical yet insistent it be noticed. 

Neither of them moved or said anything. From the way Holly was looking down and away, no longer smiling, Gail knew she had just made things awkward between them.

They were saved by the arrival of Doctor Achebe. ‘Mac contacted me,’ she said after greeting the two women, ‘Rodney’s been called to a suspicious death over near Glen Park and Mac thought the husband might have some questions about how the victim died.’

‘That’s why I’m here,‘ Holly said. Was Gail mistaken or did Holly sound a little proprietorial. She took the opportunity to gulp down her coffee. It was still warm so Holly must have arrived just ahead of her.

‘Oh,’ Helene looked surprised, ‘I’m happy to do it. I’m sure you’ve got a lot on your plate being your second day on the job. I read your notes from the autopsy so I’m across the case.’ Helene did sound as though she was trying to be genuinely helpful but Holly didn’t seem to get that.

‘I can handle it,’ she said tersely. 

‘Oh sure, I did mean to imply—’ Helene backed down, clearly worried she’d offended her new boss. If Helene was interested in Holly, she had very likely just blown her chances, Gail thought with some satisfaction.

‘0h, this could be the husband now,’ Helene said with relief.

The three of them watched as a man approached the glass entranceway. He had the build of someone who was once very fit but was now considerably overweight. He struggled a little as he made his way up the steps, his face mask billowing in and out with each breath. 

Gail crumpled her empty coffee cup and looked around for a bin to toss it but there was none. Holly held her hand ‘I’ll take it,’ she offered, clearly not bothered that Gail might have the virus. Then again, Gail had taken the cup from Holly without thinking.

‘And then I’ll wash my hands,’ Holly did that half smirk thing. 

Helene watched the exchange curiously. ‘Give it to me,’ she extended a hand. ‘I’m heading up to my office.’

By the time Ray made it into the lobby, Helene had disappeared into a lift.

‘Mr Leeson,’ Gail stepped forward as Ray came through the security screening. ‘I’m Detective Peck.’

He started and then eyed Holly and Gail suspiciously. ‘I told that other detective no crowds. I have diabetes and a heart condition so I have to be careful.’

‘Sure,’ Gail said. ‘Only myself and Doctor Stewart will be present in the room and it’s large enough that we can easily stand two metres apart.’

‘Okay’ Ray conceded, ‘As long as you wear masks.’

‘I think that can be arranged,’ Gail looked at Holly, who nodded. It was only then that Gail realised she had drifted to stand a little closer to Holly than strictly allowed.

In the viewing room, a large glass window separated them and Mac who was standing next to the body in the adjoining room. A large white sheet was draped across the body.

‘When you’re ready, Mr Macintosh will remove the sheet so you can the victim’s face,’ Gail explained, her voice gentle but muffled by the mask Holly had given her on the way in. ‘Take your time. There’s no rush.’

‘I’m ready,’ Ray said.

Holly pressed a buzzer to the side of the glass and a moment later Mac lifted the sheet. Gail had to admit Mac had done a nice job of making Paul look presentable. You couldn’t see the injury at the back of his skull and the cut Holly had made on the crown of his head, from the back of one ear to the other, had been cleverly concealed.

Ray gasped and then tripped backwards until his feet gave way and he fell onto the sofa which had been placed in the middle of the room. He began to sob and his cries were so wretched and heaving he was forced to remove his mask. Gail wasn’t sure what to do. Ray had been adamant she and Holly keep their distance but her instinct was to comfort him. She settled for passing him the box of tissues that had been left out on a side table.

Ray blew his nose loudly. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said.

‘There’s nothing to apologise for,’ Gail reassured him. She needed him to make a formal identification but was loathe to push him. ‘Take your time,’ she said again. 

Instead of reassuring him, this set Ray off once more. Gail looked across at Holly helplessly. Under her mask, Holly made a sympathetic face and then wordlessly slipped out of the room. She returned a moment later with a cup of water. Disregarding Ray’s directive to maintain distance, she sat on the other end of the couch and handed him the water.

‘Thank you,’ he said, drinking greedily. ‘And sorry, it’s just, it’s just—.’ He broke off.

‘Really hard,’ Holly nodded. ‘I am so sorry for your loss.’ Her big brown eyes were so warm and so understanding it was not a surprise that Ray then decided to open up to her. Hell, Gail was practically compelled to line up and confess all too.

‘Paul was it for me. When I met him I just knew immediately. I know that probably sounds mawkish and you know before Paul I didn’t believe in the whole idea of the one. You probably think I’m a hopeless romantic.’

‘No,’ Holly shook her head. ‘If we’re lucky we get to experience a love like that.’

‘Have you,’ Ray began and then stopped. ‘I shouldn’t pry.’ He paused and then for some reason looked across at Gail and then back at Holly. ‘If you do, don’t throw it away.’

Had Ray just confessed to Paul’s murder. Gail had believed his shock at seeing his husband on the slab was genuine but maybe she’d read him wrong.

‘What do you mean Ray,’ she asked carefully. ‘How did you thrown away your relationship with Paul?’

Ray looked confused for a beat, then he must have realised what Gail was getting at. ‘I didn’t kill Paul, if that’s what you’re asking.’ He blew out a breath. ‘I convinced myself the victim wasn’t Paul. That it was someone else who just happened to match his description.’ 

Gail didn’t say anything. Often people said more if you didn’t respond, the silence made them uncomfortable, particularly if they were stressed, and they couldn’t help but fill it. Give them enough rope, Elaine was fond of saying.

Ray laughed hollowly and took another tissue. ‘I thought, I thought maybe Paul had finally left me and that’s why he didn’t come home. That was my biggest fear, you know, that he’d abandon me, but now, oh god, now I’d give anything for Paul to have left rather than…than this.’

‘Mr Leeson,’ Gail began tentatively. She’d pulled across a hard backed chair from the side of the room and now sat at Ray’s level.

‘Ray,’ he interrupted. ‘Just Ray.’

‘Ray, I’m sorry to have to ask this, but I need you to confirm that the victim is Paul Markus.’

Ray nodded. ‘It’s Paul,’ he said, his voice barely above a whisper. ‘How, how did it happen?’

‘Paul died as a result of blunt force trauma,’ Holly explained. ‘The blow to the back of his head fractured his skull and fragments of his skull casing made their way to his brain which caused haemorrhaging.’

‘Did he suffer,’ Ray’s expression was almost pleading.

‘The force of the blow would have knocked Paul out. He wouldn’t have regained consciousness before he died.’

‘But if he had got to a hospital…’ Ray trailed off.

‘It was a catastrophic brain injury. It’s unlikely he would have survived.’

‘It’s my fault,’ Ray stated flatly.

‘Why do say that,’ Gail’s voice was casual but she watched Ray carefully.

‘Paul was having an affair. He thought he hid it well but I knew. I could see the signs. And I didn’t blame him. I mean look at me,’ Ray gestured to his body.

Gail started to demur but Ray held up his hand. He pulled his wallet from his pocket and extracted a photo, which he held out for Gail to see. The grooms were so handsome—even featured, tanned and bright-eyed, with just the right amount of stubble on square jaws—it was liked they’d stepped out of a magazine. 

‘That’s our wedding day eight years ago. I worked construction. Six months later I fell down a shaft on site and nobody noticed I was missing for four hours. Broke my back. They thought I might never walk again and I still have mobility issues. So Paul married this fit, attractive man,’ Ray held up the photo once more, ‘and he got this.’ Again he gestured to himself.

Gail bit her lip. Part of her wanted to say something reassuring, but the other part, the Peck-trained part, knew it better to let Ray keep talking. 

‘And don’t tell me he married me for who I was, not how I looked because frankly it was a package deal. And ever since the accident, I’ve had mood swings and I’m angry and bitter. I can’t work. I can’t exercise. I’m in pain most of the time. I don’t want to see people and I definitely don’t want to go out. Paul had to put up with that. And he was a saint, even though I pushed him away and even though I could see how frustrated my behaviour made him. Then about a year ago he started the affair.’

‘What makes you so sure of that?’ Gail asked.

‘Paul became secretive. Worked longer hours. At home he was preoccupied. He started going running more frequently. At first I thought it was an excuse to get out of the house and away from me but then I realised it was to meet his lover.’

‘Do you know who he was seeing?’

‘No,’ Ray shook his head. ‘But Paul is, I mean was in business with my best friend from high school. That’s how Paul and I met. Sam introduced us. He and Sam are,’ Ray stopped and corrected himself again, ‘were close. Paul would have confided in him.’

‘What sort of business?’

‘Financial planning.’

‘Okay, we’ll need to get a contact for Sam,’ Gail said. ‘Any any other close friends and family.’

Ray nodded.

‘When Paul was found he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring or watch. He also didn’t have a phone or wallet.’

‘Paul never took his wallet when he went running but he always listened to music on his phone. And he usually left his wedding ring or watch on.’

‘So apart from the wallet, you haven’t seen any of those items in your house since Paul left to go running yesterday evening?’

‘He definitely had them with him when he left. I remember watching at he put the ear buds in and selected music on his phone. Do you think he was robbed?’

‘We can’t rule it out at this stage,’ Gail leaned forward. ‘Can you think of anyone who might wish to hurt Paul? Did he have a run in with somebody recently? Maybe an unhappy work client.’

‘No. Paul was a good guy. Everyone liked him.’ Ray’s shoulders began to heave again and he sucked in a breath to stop himself crying but still a tear leaked down his cheek.

Holly handed him another tissue. ‘Ray, is there someone we can call,’ she asked.

‘I’ll be okay,’ he rose unsteadily to his feet. Despite his size he seemed diminished and, as he searched the room for the door, somewhat disorientated. ‘I think I need to go home now.’

‘Of course,’ Gail stood too. ‘Can I organise a ride for you.’

‘Um, no, um maybe my sister.’

‘Okay,’ Gail said, relieved not to be sending Ray home alone.

…………………

‘Love gone wrong. Don’t you hate that,’ Holly turned to face Gail with a lopsided smile. Sans masks, they had watched from the lobby as Ray’s sister gently led him to her car.

For a second time that morning Gail had an urge to confess all to Holly. She pictured again that big, bold, psychedelic love sign and imagined proffering it to Holly. If only she were braver. Instead she shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t know about that.’

‘No?’ Holly quirked an eyebrow. ‘You just move on without another thought. No regrets.’

‘I didn’t say that. I have plenty of regrets,’ Gail looked down and scuffed the toe of her boot against the marble floor. ‘Big ones,’ she muttered so quietly she was certain Holly couldn’t hear but it seemed Holly’s hearing was quite acute.

‘Yeah me too,’ Holly’s face softened. 

Was she talking about them Gail wondered, feeling her heart rate quicken. It felt as though they had arrived at the edge of something, which admittedly they were skirting around, but it was definitely a breakthrough of some sort.

‘So can I call you tonight? Perhaps we can talk some more about regrets,’ Holly said and Gail caught the flirtatious note.

‘Sounds uplifting,’ Gail snarked but she was grinning, and Holly grinned back. 

They stood there for a while in that manner of people who are falling in lust or love or maybe both and can’t bear to leave or indeed stop smiling at one another. It was (or at least to Gail felt very much like) that delicious liminal stage that marks the start of a relationship, full of unknowns and yet such possibilities, a point at which you had to decide whether to take the leap. The sound of the lift dinging broke them out of their bubble. 

‘Sure,’ Gail said.

‘Sure?’ Holly queried, having apparently lost the tread of the conversation. 

‘Sure, I’ll be waiting for your call but now I better get back to 15.’ Gail started walking backwards, still smiling and Holly smiled back. Maybe she was right to hope, Gail decided, finally turning when she reached the entrance way. As she emerged into the sunlight outside there was an unmistakable spring in her step.

……………..

‘Oh you’re back, Peck,’ Frankie said as Gail came into the detective pen. ‘You took your time.’

‘Next time I’ll tell the grieving widower to hurry it along.’

‘You know in our line of work you can’t be a bleeding heart. We’d never get anything done,’ Frankie said as though Gail were some raw recruit who needed friendly guidance. ‘I want a full report but what’s the bet Ray is our murderer. It’s usually the spouse.’ Gail shook her head in disbelief and shrugged off her coat. Frankie, who had picked up her cell phone, was too preoccupied to notice.

‘Oh hey, before I forget I’ve got something to show you,’ Frankie looked up, suddenly sounding quite buoyant

Thinking it was related to the case, Gail approached Frankie’s desk.

‘Turns out a friend of mine, well actually an ex fuck buddy, who lives in San Francisco knows Holly. Six degrees huh. In fact, she went to Holly’s wedding.’ 

Frankie held up her phone and there was a photo of Holly dressed in a simple but elegant mid-length white dress with a frangipani tucked behind an ear, and a bunch of the white and yellow flowers clasped in one hand. The camera had caught her laughing so her mouth was pulled wide and the lines around her eyes crinkled delightfully. 

Quite simply Holly was the most breathtakingly, beautiful bride Gail had ever seen. She looked so carefree and so radiant that Gail felt her heart break. Not because Holly seemed so happy—Gail could never begrudge her that—but because she wasn’t the one making Holly feel that way. At least Holly’s wife wasn’t in the photo. That would have been too much to bear.

………

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I completely evil to end the chapter here? Will Holly have a good explanation? Will Gail listen to it?


	5. Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always for the comments, kudos, bookmarks and subscriptions and for reading. 
> 
> Holly doesn’t appear in this chapter until the end but hang in there—hopefully it’s worth it!
> 
> Let me know what you think. It is so great to get your comments.

...

‘Paul never told me much about his personal life,’ Sam Ramirez made an apologetic face. 

He was smooth—way too smooth for Gail’s liking. The type who was accustomed to getting his way (or away with things) because of his easy charm and almost good looks. When Gail and Frankie arrived at the house, Sam had greeted them at the door with a ready smile and a bottle of hand sanitiser. ‘Can’t be too careful,’ he said genially. Frankie had the temerity to agree with him, turning to Gail and saying ‘wash up’.

‘Paul and I had a business friendship, I guess,’ Sam continued now.

‘Yeah,’ Gail asked, an eyebrow raised just slightly, ‘Ray seemed to think you and Paul were close. Said you introduced the two of them.’

‘I did, that’s true but I only knew Paul through work.’

‘But Ray describes you as a best friend.’

‘Did he say that?’ Sam asked as if this was news to him, though his tone remained genial.

‘So you’re not best friends?’

‘At school when we were kids sure, but after the accident he didn’t want to see anyone.’

‘That must have been hard for Paul.’

‘I guess,’ Sam shrugged.

‘Did Paul ever mention things were difficult at home.’

Sam shook his head.

‘So this terrible, this devastating thing happened to his husband—a life-changing event that had a huge impact on both of them—and Paul said nothing to you.’

‘Paul was very loyal. He never criticised Ray, even if Ray basically gave up.’ 

‘Gave up. What’d you mean?’ Gail asked. 

Frankie looked at her sharply. It was too early in the investigation to treat Sam like a suspect and, apart from the fact that he knew the victim and lived a few blocks from where the murder took place, there was nothing concrete to link him to Paul’s death. But only a few hours ago, Gail had sat with Ray and seen how broken he was and now here was Sam, cool and confident, basically dismissing him as a slacker. To say it pissed her off was an understatement.

‘I think Ray could have tried harder to rehabilitate but he wallowed.’

‘That your opinion or did Paul tell you that.’

‘Just an observation.’

‘So you think Ray didn’t deserve to be with Paul?’

‘No. I didn’t mean that,’ Sam replied quickly.

‘Did you ever get the impression Paul was seeing someone?’ Frankie asked.

‘Like I said, Paul was loyal and discrete.’

‘Okay,’ Frankie paused, ‘any work clients who might bear a grudge against Paul. Maybe somebody lost money because of his advice?’

‘No,’ Sam shook his head again, ‘this is a very successful business.’

‘I guess the shutdown has hit you hard though.’

‘Not really. A lot of clients are contacting us because they’re worried about the economic downturn and want to divest themselves of risk, while others suddenly find themselves with the time to look at their investment portfolios. Without Paul, I’m going to be snowed under.’

‘You don’t sound particularly cut up by his death,’ Gail said.

‘We all grieve in different ways, Detective.’ It was the first time Sam had sounded the slightest bit annoyed.

‘Where do you go shopping around here, if you need, oh I don’t know, say a carton of milk.’ Gail kept her voice casual.

Sam gave the minutest of starts. Blink and you’d miss it, but Gail, who was watching him closely, saw it.

‘Um sorry, you need to buy milk, Detective? There are plenty of convenience stores in the neighbourhood.’ Sam’s tone was helpful but Gail was convinced he deliberately misinterpreted her question.

‘And which one do you shop at,’ she paused, ‘for milk?’

‘Depends on the direction I’m coming from,’ Sam turned to Frankie and held out his hands. ‘I’m sorry but I don’t see what this has to do with Paul’s death.’

Gail didn’t give Frankie an opportunity to respond. ‘I guess you probably shop at the 7-Eleven on Oakdale Street. It’s only two blocks away so that’s convenient,’ she mused idly, like this fact was of little consequence, a piece of trivia rather than anything material to the investigation.

‘Sometimes, yeah. As I explained, it depends on the direction I’m coming from.’

‘You didn’t happen to be in the store about 6 pm last night.’

‘I was home working and no I don’t have an alibi. Kind of hard at the moment.’ As he spoke Sam touched his throat, then his eyes darted to the door. Classic tells. The first indicated his discomfort, and the second his desire to escape the situation. ‘I have a conference call in ten minutes so we’re going to have to wind this up.’ He made a great show of checking his watch.

‘So you’re not even taking a day to mourn your, ‘ Gail paused and then emphasised the next words, ‘business partner.’ The insinuation that Sam and Paul were much more than colleagues was plain but Sam didn’t bite.

‘I need to make a living,’ he opened his hands in a ‘want can you do about it’ gesture, ‘and I don’t want the clients going elsewhere because I missed a call. So, if you’ll excuse me.’ He stood, ready to usher them out it, still cordial but his smile tighter now. Gail remained seated but Frankie also stood and inclined her head in the direction of the hallway. Seemed like they were leaving.

‘By the way,’ Gail asked when they reached the front door. ‘Do you wear a mask when you go out.’

‘Didn’t realise the cops were policing mask wearing now.’

Gail couldn’t help herself. She looked at Sam like he was an idiot. ‘So, do you?’ she prompted. 

Frankie, who was standing next to Gail in the narrow hallway, started walking toward her. Short of barging past Frankie, Gail had no choice but to back out the door. 

‘Thanks for your time Mr Ramirez,’ Frankie paused on the doorstep. ‘If you think of anything that might be helpful, give me a call,’ she drew a card out of her pocket and held it out to Sam. As he took the card, Gail was certain she caught a look of relief on his face.

…………….

‘Need to get something off your chest?’ Frankie asked once they were out on the street and away from the house.

‘Nope,’ Gail popped the ‘p’. ‘What makes you think that?’

‘The way you treated that guy back there for starters.’

‘He’s hiding something.’

‘And that gives you a licence to be an asshole.’

‘I don’t know Frankie, what’s your excuse?’ Gail asked saccharinely.

Frankie sighed elaborately.

‘I’m walking back to the station.’ Gail set off without waiting for Frankie to respond.

‘Good idea,’ Frankie called after her, ‘it might help you cool down.’

Should she give Frankie the finger. It was tempting but Gail decided against it. She was too deflated to put up a fight. Though Frankie would probably keep goading her until she did. She kicked at a stone on the sidewalk so it skittered and ricocheted off a low brick wall bordering a front garden and somehow landed back at her feet. That made her laugh wryly. Maybe she was good at sport after all. 

A woman opened the door to the house and peered down the pathway which cut a determined swathe through the otherwise overgrown garden. ‘Have you got my UPS parcel’ she called out, advancing a little up the path. Gail shook her head but the woman kept moving forward, as insistent as the pathway. She had the kind of desperate expression Gail imagined a passenger on a sinking ship might wear on learning the lifeboats were full. Had lockdown made everyone weirder or were they always like this, Gail wondered as she hurried on before the woman could get any closer.

The station wasn’t far—a twenty minute walk at most—and despite her gloominess about Holly, Gail enjoyed the solitude of the empty streets and in particular the absence of Frankie. 

When the detective had shown her that photo of Holly, Gail’s initial shock was quickly replaced by resignation. She had managed to hide it well which only served to irritate Frankie. Gail’s eyes had widened ever so slightly and then she composed her features just as she was taught.

‘So,’ she had shrugged.

‘So? Is that all you’ve got to say?’ Frankie said, her lip curling downwards.

‘Sorry to disappoint Anderson but Doctor Stewart’s marital status is no concern of mine.’

‘Yeah,’ Frankie looked sceptical. She turned back to her desk, muttering something that sounded like ‘could’ve fooled me,’ which Gail chose to ignore.  
She excused herself to go to the bathroom, detouring out back instead where she aimed a kick at one of the crates arranged in a convivial circle by the smokers. It hit the wall with a satisfying thwack and splintered.

‘Uh, um you okay detective?’ It was was Duncan.

‘Peachy Gerald,’ Gail said, in an attempt to conceal her embarrassment at being caught in the act.‘Get this cleaned up,’ she added, doing her best impersonation of Elaine.

‘Sure, no worries boss,’ he ducked his head ingratiatingly. ‘I hate smoking too.’

‘You okay?’ Frankie asked when Gail returned to the detective pen. She scanned Gail’s face as if looking for signs she’d been crying.

‘Peachy,’ Gail said again. Why had everyone decided to suddenly act like they cared. She sat down at her desk and bought up Sam Ramirez’s address on her computer.

‘Bingo,’ she said. Where had that come from? It was not an expression she normally used. Holly, of course. It was the kind of nerdy thing she would say.

‘Bingo,’ Frankie mimicked sarcastically.

‘Paul’s business partner, Sam Ramirez lives two blocks from the 7-Eleven. We should go interview him. I’ll fill you in in the car.’ With that Gail grabbed her coat and headed out of the pen.

‘Wait, I thought I was leading this investigation,’ Frankie protested but she was already rising from her chair.

‘Yeah,’ Gail stopped and spun around. ‘Well, then next time you can go to the morgue.’ 

It was twilight by the time Gail reached the station. She watched as the street lamps flickered on, casting pools of light that punctuated the gloom. The advancing chill, which at this time of year rolled in as soon as the sun went down, made her shiver slightly. She looked back down the street, half expecting the parcel woman to have followed her. Inside 15, Frankie was nowhere to be seen but Dov had just come on duty.

‘You got time to dig up some financial records?’ Gail asked him.

‘Sure. Things are pretty slow at the moment. This connected to your guy in the alleyway?’

‘Yep. The victim Paul Leeson was a financial advisor. He and a Sam Ramirez ran a business called Venturesome.’

‘Lame name,’ Dov observed. ‘Sounds like it should be trading in hiking gear not investment advice.’

‘True,’ Gail said. ‘Ramirez claims business couldn’t be better.’

‘Right now—in lockdown?’ Dov looked sceptical. ‘A lot of businesses are going to the wall, and those that are managing to stay afloat are taking a hit. You want me to see if Ramirez is telling the truth?’

Gail nodded. She switched off the computer and started gathering her things. Water bottle, sunglasses and a scarf she wrapped around her neck. Then she just sat there unmoving, overtaken by an inertia she couldn’t shake. Maybe if she remained here like this, completely still as though she were stone, she’d never have to deal with the fact of Holly’s marriage. 

‘Everything all right, Gail?’ Dov asked.

‘Yeah,’ Gail curled her lip.

‘It’s just you’ve been sitting there staring at a blank computer screen for ten minutes.’

‘Can’t a person have a moment,’ Gail said pushing herself out of her chair.

‘And Duncan mentioned you destroyed one of the smoker’s chairs.’

‘Chair. Ha! It was a rotten old crate.’

‘So what was that about?’

‘Frankie was being an ass.’

‘Oh. Okay,’ Dov nodded as though this was perfectly plausible. 

And it was the truth. Just not the whole truth. Gail wasn’t about to tell him she was angry with herself, not Frankie. It was hardly Frankie’s fault that Holly was married so why shoot the messenger? She gave Dov a halfhearted wave and headed out of the pen.

For four years Gail had squashed her feelings for Holly, with more or less success. Then just when she had finally managed to carve out a life that wasn’t wholly defined by the absence of Holly, suddenly Holly was back and in an instant Gail let down her guard, in fact, allowed herself to hope. She was stupid, stupid, stupid. As Gail walked out of the station and threaded through the carpark, the mantra ran over and over in her head and continued even once she was on the road and heading home. 

It felt like she was back where she started when Holly left for San Francisco. Square one, she sighed despondently. Except it was worse because now there was no hope.

After that one night with Frankie, Gail seemed to despise herself a little less each time she slept with someone. Not that there had been a great list. A few hook ups, a thing with her very lithe, and it transpired nimble, yoga instructor which lasted a whole nine weeks until it became apparent that sex and yoga were the only things they had in common. 

Soon after, Gail fell into a no strings attached fling with the barista from the hole in the wall coffee shop around the corner from 15. Mirka was heavily inked and putting herself through art school, and without fail made outrageously flirtatious comments about how Gail wore her uniform until the day Gail made Detective and turned up in plainclothes. Mirka said they should go celebrate, which was how they found themselves naked and somewhat out of breath in Mirka’s bed later that evening. Mirka wasn’t quite as flexible as the yoga instructor, but she made up for that with an impressive assortment of sex toys.

Then finally a someone someone. That lasted fourteen months and looked like it really was going somewhere. Everyone, themselves included, referred to Gail and Vicky as girlfriends. Vicky worked as a prosecutor. She was whip smart and attractive in a sexy librarian sort of way, not that Gail ever admitted that last bit. 

When Dov started on about how much Vicky reminded him of Holly, Gail threatened to make it very difficult for him to father children. ‘So she’s a brunette,’ Gail had shrugged. ‘With glasses and a great, um she’s very fit,’ Dov pointed out. Gail punched him in the arm. ‘You gotta admit you have a type,’ he persisted, at which stage Gail made her very graphic threat.

It ended when Vicky started making noises about moving in together and Gail found herself withdrawing because it seemed commitment made her think of Holly. Clearly she needed more time to get over Holly but damn it had been over three years. Just how long would it take?  
…………

Gail had been home for a little over an hour when her phone rang. She let the call go to messages but almost immediately the ringing started again. The phone was on the kitchen counter and she very nearly went to her bedroom. If she shut the door, she could pretend she hadn’t heard it. 

The ringing finally stopped. Gail relaxed and pulled a beer out of the refrigerator but before she had time to pop the top, the ringing resumed. Shit, what if it was work? She crossed the room and grabbed the phone just before it rang out. Instead of an unknown number there was Traci’s photo. 

‘Hey,’ Traci said when Gail answered, ‘just checking in’

‘On the case?’ Gail asked, ready launch into a rundown.

‘No. Frankie bought me up to speed. She’s worried about you though.’

‘What she say?,’ Gail felt a surge of anger. ‘I was hard on the victim’s business partner but I don’t think he’s telling the truth.’

‘Frankie didn’t say anything about your method—only that Mr Ramirez didn’t appear to be entirely candid.’

Well, that was news to Gail. She wished Frankie had shared that.

‘No,’ Traci continued in a gentler tone, the kind Gail had heard her use with Leo when he was younger and she was trying to reason something out with him. ‘Frankie thought you might need to talk to a friend.’

‘About what?’ Gail snapped.

Traci sighed. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t realise it would be hard for you to see Holly. I thought you’d be pleased she was back.’

Maybe it was the motherly tone but Gail found herself blurting out, ‘Holly’s married.’

Traci didn’t answer for a beat. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Frankie showed me a photo taken at Holly’s wedding,’ Gail said bitterly. ‘Some friend of Frankie’s was on the guest list.’

Uncharacteristically, Traci swore under her breath. ‘Does Frankie actually have friends?’ she asked, which was also unusual. Traci wasn’t one to disparage or gossip about a colleague.

‘Good point,’ Gail scoffed, deciding she could get used to mean Traci. ‘She was an ex fuck buddy apparently.’

‘Figures,’ Traci said. ‘Are you sure it was a photo of Holly getting married?’

‘She was wearing a white dress and holding a bunch of flowers.’

‘And her wife was in the photo?’

‘Nope.’

‘And it was definitely a wedding dress.’

‘Well, it was plain,’ Gail admitted, ‘but it looked weddingish.’

‘Because it was white and Holly was holding flowers and Frankie told you it was taken at her wedding. Gail, you’re a detective, you know things aren’t always what they seem. And we all know Frankie likes to wind you up.’

‘Why are you trying to get my hopes up?’ Gail whined, aware she was acting like a petulant child unwilling to listen to reason. And damn if she hadn’t just made clear to Traci how she felt about Holly. Though it seemed like Traci had worked that out long ago.

‘Because when I spoke to Holly the first person she asked about was you. And she seemed particularly keen to find out if you were single.’

‘Oh,’ Gail’s voice was small. ‘Maybe she thought it would easier to tell me she was married if I was with someone.’

‘Not the impression I got,’ Traci said firmly. She was using that mother tone again.

‘Then why didn’t Holly contact me when she got back to Toronto.’

‘It might have something to do with the fact that you ignored her calls when she went to San Francisco.’

‘Traci that was like four years ago!’ Gail protested. ‘And we tried to talk but it was too, I dunno, hard I guess.’ She began absentmindedly tugging at a loose thread on the hem of her t-shirt

‘And it wasn’t the first time you ghosted her.’

‘Yeah well,’ Gail chewed her lip, ‘Holly’s supposed to call me this evening.’

‘Will you give her a chance to explain,’ Traci said, and when Gail didn’t reply said sternly, ‘Gail.’

‘Why do you even care Traci.’

‘Gail, you’re my friend. I like to think Holly is too. And as someone looking at this from the outside, it seems like you two really need to talk.’

‘It’ll just end in disaster like before.’ Gail twisted her mouth. ‘Maybe we just aren’t meant to be together. The stars never align and all that shit. Anyway, I’m not a home wrecker.’

Traci laughed. ‘And I don’t believe Holly is married. Will you promise to answer her call.’ 

‘Why don’t you call Holly if it’s so important to you.’

‘Gail,’ Traci’s voice was stern again. For some reason it was enough to make Gail give some ground.

‘Yeah, okay, okay,’ Gail said grudgingly. ’And if turns out she’s married, Traci, you owe me big time.’

‘Not sure how that works,’ Traci laughed. ‘Okay, what have I let myself in for?’

‘You will never partner me with Frankie again. Better still, get her a transfer.’

Gail wasn’t certain but Traci might have muttered ‘I wish.’ Fact was there weren’t many divisions in Toronto willingly to take Frankie. Sure she was a good detective but she had a habit of sleeping with the women she worked with—gay or straight, married or not—and then appear mystified by the ensuing drama and tension. Frankie was a sex and love addict, Andy had pronounced one drunken night at the Penny. Andy would know, Gail decided, and immediately felt a little mean spirited for thinking that. At least Andy hadn’t fallen for Frankie’s shtick. Sadly Gail couldn’t say the same for herself.

‘Sorry, what was that about Frankie?’ she asked cheekily.

‘If you don’t answer Holly’s call, then the only person you will be partnered with until the day you retire is Frankie Anderson,’ Traci said, unable to keep the triumph out of her voice.

‘You wouldn’t.’ 

‘Are you willing to put that to the test?’

Gail disconnected wondering how she’d let Traci get the better of her. It was only when she stood that she noticed the entire hem of her t-shirt was unravelled and it now hung raggedly. Not that it mattered. The t-shirt already had a stain on the front and a hole under one armpit. 

ISO had allowed her to give up any pretence of caring about her appearance outside of work. Harley didn’t give a damn what she looked like. Gail ran her hand through her short hair so it stuck up in spikes. Nobody was going to tell her that looked weird either.

Gail was contemplating a second beer when the phone rang again. She jumped and dropped the device like it was on fire and then felt immediately foolish. In her defence, she hadn’t expected Holly to call as soon as Traci disconnected. Taking a deep breath, she retrieved the phone only to find it was Traci again. Gail wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed.

‘You once told me that one of your biggest regrets was ignoring Holly’s calls and messages after you walked out on her at the Penny,’ Traci said without any preamble.

‘I think you’ve got me mixed up with someone else. I never said that.’

‘Oh sure Gail. It was when you convinced me not to give up on our friendship just because of Steve. So Gail Peck, as far as I’m concerned, you owe me. Here’s the deal. Speak to Holly and then we’re even.’ She rang off before Gail could reply.

Almost immediately the phone sounded to indicated a FaceTime call. Clearly Traci wasn’t going to let this go, Gail sighed. Except it wasn’t Traci. It was Leo.

‘You should listen to mom, you know,’ he said, his face arranged to look earnest and adult.

‘How much she pay you to say that,’ Gail laughed.

‘Nothing, I just overheard,’ Leo protested. ‘And Gail you deserve to be happy.’

With that he disconnected. When had Leo become so grown up? Although they didn’t hang so much now that he was a teenager, Gail had been a constant in his life. By default she had become an aunt of sorts, and while she was probably no longer the cool one she intended to be (because what teenager thinks an adult is cool), Gail nonetheless remained someone Leo confided in. 

When he was fourteen Leo’s heart was broken by a careless classmate who had liked the idea rather than the fact of a boyfriend. It had fallen to Gail to comfort him, and for some reason she had given him the story of Holly. She wasn’t even certain what lesson he took from that, except that she too nursed a broken heart. 

‘But you’re not still hung up on Holly,’ Leo had asked at the time. Gail bit her lip. She didn’t want to lie. ‘You’ve got Vicky now,’ he added, his face hopeful. ‘Yeah, of course. There’s more than one person out there who can make us happy’, she said, as much to convince herself as to reassure Leo. It had felt uncomfortably like a betrayal.

The very next morning, over breakfast in fact, Vicky suggested she and Gail move in together. They were in Vicky’s apartment and Gail had made some lame excuse to leave. Once she reached the stairwell, she frantically loosened her collar and took great lungfuls of air. Possibly she was having a panic attack but she couldn’t figure out why. She and Vicky were practically living together anyway so why would she be freaked out by the idea of making it permanent. Then she thought of Holly and realisation hit. Gail slid to the ground, her back to the cement wall and her head in her hands.

When another FaceTime call came through, Gail didn’t even bother looking at the screen before answering.

‘You put Leo up to it, didn’t you Traci, and yes, yes I will speak to Holly,’ she said and then nearly dropped the phone again when Holly said hi in an amused tone. 

‘Crossed lines,’ Holly suggested.

‘Oh it’s you.’ Gail tried not to seem as disconcerted as she felt.

Holly looked as though she had gone to some effort with her appearance. Her hair was out and she wasn’t wearing glasses, and instead of her usual button-up shirt she was dressed in a black scoop neck top. Gail was suddenly conscious of how disheveled she must appear and she tried to surreptitiously flatten her hair.

‘I FaceTimed because I thought it would be good to actually see each other,’ Holly said cautiously, ‘but is now not a good time for this?’

‘Why didn’t you tell me you have a wife.’ Gail hadn’t intended to start with that or sound quite so accusatory but there it was. 

‘Because I don’t,’ Holly replied, but she was smirking.

‘Frankie showed me a photo taken at your wedding,’ Gail persisted. ‘Some friend of hers was there.’

‘That must have been Elena. She’s a photographer,’ Holly explained. She spoke so casually, like this was really no big deal, and it occurred to Gail that Holly must have no idea how she felt about her.

‘Elena mentioned she used to live in Toronto. That must how she knows Detective Anderson,’ Holly continued. ‘Anyway, she photographed the wedding.’

‘But you just said you weren’t married.’

‘I didn’t say that. I said I didn’t have a wife.’

‘But, but, oh.’ Gail suddenly understood what Holly meant. ‘You’re married to a man.’ Somehow Gail managed to screw up her face and curl her lip all at once.

Holly began to laugh but stopped when she realised Gail was glaring at her. ‘Sorry, sorry. It’s just your expression was so, so—‘ she searched for the right word.

‘Incredulous,’ Gail huffed. 

‘Repulsed.’

‘Well, yeah ew.’

‘You dated men,’ Holly pointed out.

‘Do you have to remind me,’ Gail curled her lip again. ‘Not that I want to label anyone, and you can fall in love with whoever you want, but Holly you are the gayest of gay.’

Holly began laughing again.

‘Clearly I got that wrong,’ Gail grumbled.

‘It’s a marriage of convenience,’ Holly was still laughing even though Gail couldn’t work out what so funny. ‘Misha, my husband—it feels weird calling him that.’

‘You’re telling me.’

‘That’s the thing, I’m not sure I should be telling you. I mean you’re a police officer and even though I got married in San Francisco, you’re probably duty bound to report me. Oh shit, I really didn’t think this through. I mean some people might regard it as fraud but I think I had a moral obligation, especially as a humanitarian—‘

‘You married Misha so he could stay in the US,’ Gail finally interrupted Holly’s rambling.

‘Yeah, how did you figure that out.’’

‘You gave enough clues.’

‘Are you gonna arrest me?’

‘I might if you don’t hurry up and tell me the whole story.’

‘Oh, oh right.’ Holly went to push her glasses back up her nose and was momentarily thrown when she realised she wasn’t wearing them. ‘Misha is from Chechnya and he’s gay.’

‘Chechnya. Isn’t that where they lock people up for being anything other than heterosexual.’

‘Locked up, beaten, tortured, murdered,’ Holly sighed. ‘Misha is a colleague. He was in San Francisco on a work visa, but before he left home he was involved in protests against the government and their treatment of the LGBTQI community. While he was over here, the police in Chechnya issued a warrant for his arrest. If he went back, Misha could be jailed indefinitely or worse. A lot of his friends have just disappeared. His visa was about to run out, and I have American citizenship through my mom, so I offered to marry him.’

‘So there’s nothing between you two?’

‘Didn’t you just hear me say Misha was gay and didn’t you just tell me I’m the gayest of gay.’ Holly looked amused again.

‘But you looked so happy in the photo. Kinda blissful.’

‘Maybe I was high on being a good Samaritan. You know studies have shown that people who help others are generally happier.’

Gail quirked an eyebrow.

‘Okay, you want the truth,’ Holly said.

‘Uh-huh.’

‘I was very drunk on champagne. We started drinking early in the morning and it was an afternoon wedding so I think what you saw is my happy inebriated face.’

Gail laughed, partly from relief but also at the thought of a drunk Holly. Aside from Frank and Noelle’s wedding, where both of them had been tipsy, Gail hadn’t seen Holly drink much. In fact, she always had the impression, Holly was something of a lightweight when it came to alcohol.

‘And the wedding was a hoot. I don’t think there was one sober or straight person there,’ Holly continued.

‘Yeah,’ Gail said, ‘so where is Misha now?’ 

‘He’s taken over the lease on my apartment. I always planned to come back to Toronto but then the wedding delayed that. We had to put on a good show for immigration. Six months ago Misha was granted citizenship and four weeks ago we started divorce proceedings.’

‘So you’re a gay divorcee,’ Gail sniggered.

‘Not yet,’ Holly tilted her head to one side and smiled, and the sight almost made Gail swoon. ‘How do you feel about hanging out with a married woman.’

Just at that moment a crash came from the kitchen. It sounded as though a plate had dropped to the floor and shattered.

‘Is someone there with you,’ Holly asked, frowning slightly.

‘Oh that was Harley. Do you want to meet her,’ Gail was already rising from her chair.

‘Um, you know I should probably just go,’ Holly said but Gail didn’t hear her, nor did she notice her phone screen go blank as Holly quickly disconnected the call.


	6. Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it has taken a while to update. I found it hard to write with all that is happening in the world right now, paramount of which is Black Lives Matter. It seemed wrong to write a fic with cops as the good guys when too often the reality is far from that.
> 
> I have never had any illusions about the police, having encountered overly aggressive policing at rallies and demonstrations and witnessed police treatment of Australia's First Nations people, who are incarcerated and die in custody at ever increasing rates. Though it has improved now, when I was younger, the police did little to protect the LGBTQI community from violence. And really not that long ago (from the 1980s to 2000) police in Sydney wouldn't investigate the supposed suicides of young gay men who were actually the victims of hate crimes. That said, I am white and middle class and I don't carry the fear that at anytime and anywhere I could be killed by the very people entrusted to and supposed to protect us.
> 
> I am aware this story is set in an idealised world, where cops do protect and serve the community—the whole community and not just those of us who are white and privileged. I never set out to glorify cops—for me writing has actually always been about Gail and Holly's relationship—but I can understand if readers can't continue with this or my other Golly stories.
> 
> I hope the BLM protests can finally bring about lasting and meaningful change. The murder of black and First Nations people by police has to stop.
> 
> And in these most turbulent of times, stay safe and well everyone.
> 
> Postscript to above  
> Readers have pointed out that not all cops are bad and I agree. It is a tough and dangerous job, especially in countries where gun ownership is widespread. I’ve heard stories of people joining up to make a difference—and some do, for example here in Australia a group of police recently uncovered a pedophile ring, an investigation which meant they were exposed to the most horrific things. Then there are countless stories of police officers working doggedly to bring criminals to justice and get closure for victims. Unfortunately it seems like a lot of cops who want to do good also come up against an entrenched culture, and it is this culture that needs to change.
> 
> WARNING: there is discussion of suicide in this chapter

*********************

‘Holly?’ Gail looked at her phone to find the screen had locked. They must have been disconnected she reasoned, deciding Holly would call back. Harley squirmed in her arms and gave a meow that sounded impossibly loud for such a tiny fluff ball. Gail plonked her on the couch and went to get that second beer. 

When she settled back, Harley jumped on her lap, turning once, then twice before arranging herself in a tight little circle. Gail smiled down at her and scratched lightly behind her ear, which made the kitten butt her head against Gail’s hand.

The two of them passed the next ten minutes in this way—Gail sipping on her beer and stroking Harley who began to purr loudly. Gail might even have been as content as Harley but for the fact that Holly hadn’t called. She leant back against the couch and closed her eyes, trying not to give into the exhaustion that overtook her at this time of night when it became impossible to ignore, how alone she was, save for Harley.

With tedious inevitability, Gail’s thoughts would turn to her solitary life—an exercise that increasingly felt as though she were picking through the detritus of a ramshackle and abandoned house—before moving on to the state of the world itself. Each time she failed to come to any conclusion but that everything, herself included, was fucked. They said iso was harder for singles but she knew the rot had set in well before that.

There was no denying that the weeks and weeks of living through the pandemic had placed a pall upon the city. It was there in the near empty streets and the bordered up shops; in the ambulance sirens that echoed down wide abandoned avenues; in the endless queues of the homeless and destitute at food banks; in the unnatural silence that had replaced the normal urban buzz; and in the news bulletins with their daily tally of cases and deaths that rarely deviated from an upward trajectory. 

Behind those statistics were the hundreds upon hundreds of people who had died surrounded not by family and friends but machines and medical staff in masks and gloves. The mothers and fathers, and sisters and brothers, the grandparents, the children, the wives and husbands, and friends and lovers claimed by this virus. All those people, not numbers but real people, whose families had to believe that a nurse spoke words of comfort as they slipped away because the thought of someone you loved dying alone was too awful to contemplate. 

Over the course of the past few months, Gail had come to the conclusion that she didn’t have the temperament for uncertainty, at least not of her own making. Yet the world had become an increasingly volatile place, and one she had no choice but to face on own. Then out of the blue Holly turned up, and with her the return of the hope Gail believed she had buried deep inside herself—indeed perhaps it was among the detritus of that ramshackle house. If the past 48 hours had proven anything to Gail it was that no matter how much she had tried to convince herself otherwise, when it came to Holly she was not ready to abandon hope. Not even close.

When fifteen minutes passed and Holly still hadn’t called back, it occurred to Gail that Holly had deliberately cut their conversation short. Had she done something to offend Holly? It had all seemed to be going well, right up until the moment Gail went to fetch Harley. Did Holly have a cat phobia she hadn’t told Gail about? It was the kind of thing that probably would have come up in conversation. Even before they dated, she and Holly had shared a lot, more than Gail had ever bothered telling boyfriends. In fact she had revealed more of herself to Holly than to anyone before or since.

Oh shit, Gail sat bolt upright. Harley protested at the sudden movement with an outraged meow. She stood stiffly and then immediately settled back on Gail’s lap. Gail stroked her head absentmindedly and the cat, soothed, began to purr again. Did Holly think Harley was her girlfriend? It was so ridiculous Gail laughed out loud. 

She was torn between sending Holly an earnest text reassuring her that though Harley was cute she was no competition, and one saying that Harley was currently sitting on her lap. Amusing as the latter might be, it definitely wouldn’t win Holly back. So Gail took a photo of Harley and typed out a message: ‘This is Harley. She breaks things when I don’t pay her attention but when she looks at me like this I can’t get mad.’ Then she hit send.

When the phone rang a moment later, Gail checked caller ID and swore. ‘What d’ya want Anderson,’ she asked.

‘We’ve got another body,’ Frankie said heavily. ‘It’s Ray.’

Gail swore again.

………………………………….

When Gail arrived at Ray’s apartment, Frankie was standing in the corridor just outside the front door. She was already in a tyvek suit and Gail started pulling on her own. The strange thing about Frankie was that while she avoided autopsies like the plague (or Covid-19), she didn’t seem to have a problem with bodies at a scene. 

‘Forensics are here,’ Frankie nodded toward the apartment. ‘Ray’s sister found him. She came to check on him because she was worried about how low he seemed. Sounds like it was probably pills.’

Gail winced. ‘I should have realised this could happen. Ray was already depressed. I mean, it was obvious Paul’s death hit him hard.’

‘No,’ Frankie interrupted, her voice firm. ‘This is not your fault.’

‘I could have at least organised some support for him.’ Gail said as she zipped up her suit. 

‘Even if you had, it could’ve been days before anyone saw Ray.’ It was Holly’s voice, coming from behind Gail and just within the apartment. 

Stupidly Gail hadn’t anticipated that Holly might be on call. In Gail’s mind, at least up until that moment, Holly was still back wherever she was currently living, hopefully reading the text about Harley. Instead, here she was standing in the doorway to Ray’s apartment. 

‘With Covid-19, mental health services are swamped,’ Holly added. Then she placed her hand just lightly on Gail’s back and Gail, who normally flinched when someone touched her, found herself reflexively leaning into it, not unlike the way Harley might respond when Gail petted her. She pulled herself up when she realised Frankie was looking pointedly at Holly’s hand, a sly grin forming on her face.

‘Are you okay,’ Holly tilted her head to one side.

Maybe it was because it been so long since anyone had spoken to her with such solicitousness that Gail found her usual stoicism slipping. She bit her lip hard to stop any tears that might be lurking and fall unbidden. Holly’s head was still titled to the side and her gaze still focused on Gail. For her part, Gail was surprised by her fragility and confused too. Was it Ray’s death or Holly’s return or a combination of the two that had put her in this state? At least now she understood why Holly hadn’t called back, although thinking about their conversation seemed wrong when Ray’s body lay so near by.

‘We have to stop meeting like this,’ Frankie said, sounding cocky and sure, but saving Gail from making an idiot of herself. ‘Can we take a look at the body?’

‘Masks,’ Holly held out one to each of them before slipping her own back on. ‘Come through. He’s in the bedroom.’

Ray was sprawled out on the bed, his bulk covering much of it. One foot was bare and the other had a sock dangling half off. A couple of buttons had popped on his shirt exposing a soft pale belly covered in a dark fuzz of hair. It made him seem so vulnerable and pitiful that Gail wanted to avert her eyes. There was foam around his mouth—a telltale sign of an opioid overdose. An empty pill bottle sat on the nightstand.

‘Prescription,’ Holly said indicating the bottle, ‘filled three days ago. If he took them all, he meant business.’

‘Definitely suicide then,’ Frankie asked.

‘Looks that way,’ Holly agreed, ‘and it fits with his state of mind but we’ll have a clearer idea after the autopsy. I never like to make assumptions.’

‘Of course,’ Frankie nodded. ‘‘The victim’s sister said she spoke to him about five hours before she found his body.’

‘That fits. I’d say he hasn’t been dead long.’

While Holly and Frankie continued speaking, Gail scanned the room. There was something about the scene that was off, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. She frowned in concentration. Apart from Ray’s disheveled appearance, the room was fairly orderly. It didn’t appear staged which was often the case when murders were made to look like suicide. 

Ray hadn’t drawn the blinds and the lights inside the room bounced off the glass of the windows. In one corner, some clothes were draped over a chair, with a pair of shoes beneath. The timber floor was covered with a number of cozy rugs but none looked out of place. Apart from the pill bottle and a book, the bedside tables were clear. 

‘No note?’ Gail asked.

Holly shook her head.

‘We’ll take a look around the rest of the apartment,’ Frankie said, indicating for Gail to follow her. As Gail passed Holly she had the distinct feeling Holly was about to reach out to her but reconsidered. It was too public here and anyway they were at work. The techs were busy taking photos and measurements and bagging samples and suddenly Gail found the room cloying and she hurried out after Frankie.

The apartment was of a medium size and tastefully furnished. The two men had favoured a minimalist aesthetic and warm, neutral tones. A stack of dishes and takeaway containers in the sink and an overflowing trash can indicated Ray may have struggled to keep up in the days following Paul’s death. 

The living room and second bedroom were fairly neat. It was apparent Paul had been sleeping in this spare room and Gail wondered how long that had been the case. By the time she and Frankie finished their sweep of the apartment, Holly was ready to take Ray’s body back to the morgue.

‘I’ll do the autopsy first thing tomorrow,’ she said.

As Ray’s body was wheeled out to the lift, a woman appeared at the door of the neighbouring apartment. She looked to be in her late thirties, attractive in an effortless sort of way with dark hair framing an open face.

‘Is everything okay,’ she asked. ‘Is that Ray?’

‘I’m sorry ma’am,’ Frankie stood between the woman and the gurney. ‘We can’t confirm anything at the moment.’

‘It’s just,’ the woman started.

‘Ma’am,’ Frankie held up a hand. Sometimes she relished being officious.

‘What is it?’ Gail’s tone was gentle. She took a step towards the woman. ‘Is there something you want to tell us about Ray?’

The woman eyed Frankie warily and then focused on Gail. ‘I came back from a run around 6.30 and there was someone at Ray’s door. Ray was asking him to leave and he sounded angry.’

‘Did you get a look at this guy?’

‘Just from behind. He had a cap on so I couldn’t see his hair but he was taller than me. Maybe six foot. Looked fit.’

‘Did you get the impression Ray knew the guy?’

‘Yeah. He called him Sam. He said haven’t you done enough damage Sam. Then the guy, Sam I guess, said something I couldn’t hear, and Ray started shouting for him to leave.’

‘So you didn’t feel a need to go to Ray’s aid?’ Frankie asked, the accusatory note in her voice impossible to miss.

‘I didn’t think it was my business. Anyways I came up via the stairs and I don’t think they noticed me. After I showered and changed I looked out the peephole in my door but there was no sign of either of them.’

‘Did you hear any other disturbances after that?’ Gail asked.

The woman shook her head. ‘Only now, when,’ she stopped and gestured to the gurney, which two of the lab techs were manoeuvring into the lift.

‘Can we get your name and a contact number in case we need to follow up?’ Gail asked.

The woman nodded. ‘Susan Brooks.’ 

She began to recite her number and Gail pulled a notebook out of her jacket to write it down. ‘If you think of anything else, here’s my card.’

‘Sure,’ Susan took the card and peered at it, ‘Detective Gail Peck huh. You don’t have a brother called Steve do you?’

Gail blanched. She couldn’t help it. The question completely threw her. She sensed Holly move closer. Oh, so Holly must know about Steve then. She wondered who told her. Then again it was hardly a secret.

‘Sorry, I don’t mean to be intrusive but you look like him,’ the woman continued. ‘Steve and I dated briefly in college.’

‘Oh,’ Gail finally managed. ‘He didn’t mention that. Um, he’s by brother.’

‘Is he running the force yet? I know your mother had big plans.’

Gail gave a noncommittal laugh.

‘Say hi from me next time you see him.’

‘Sure,’ Gail said but didn’t move. She felt rooted to the spot. Then Holly placed a hand upon her back again and applied a little pressure, steering Gail in the direction of the lift. She heard Frankie thank Susan for her assistance, gracious now she realised the woman was a potential witness.

‘Well,’ Frankie said once the lift doors shut, ‘maybe this isn’t a suicide after all.’

‘Hmm,’ Holly seemed distracted. She was standing closer to Gail than the allowable 1.5 metres. Hell, if there were serious about social distancing, the three of them probably shouldn’t be in the lift together.

‘Weird huh,’ Frankie continued, ‘that that woman knew Steve. A city the size of Toronto and you can never escape your past.’ 

It was unclear whether Frankie was referring to herself or Gail. Regardless, Holly’s hands tightened almost into fists and her mouth was set. Gail didn’t react. After all, it was just Frankie being Frankie.

The lift doors dinged open and Frankie sailed out. Gail had started to follow when Holly slipped her hand into Gail’s and gave it a quick squeeze. It made Gail pause but she didn’t have a chance to respond. Frankie had already crossed the small lobby and was out on the street gesturing at something outside the building and then beckoning Gail impatiently.

‘She’s an ass,’ Holly said, loosening her grip on Gail’s hand so just their finger tips touched.

‘I’m used to her,’ Gail shrugged, smiling a little. It was unusual for Holly to be so openly critical of people, or indeed hostile. ‘Frankie tends to speak without thinking.’

Holly snorted. ‘You think.’

They were perilously close. Too close for a pandemic. Too close for work colleagues. Too close for friends. Holly was looking at her intently. Gail bit her lip. She sensed herself drifting even nearer to Holly. It wasn’t something she had consciously decided to do, or for that matter had much control over.  
Holly moved her hand away from Gail’s and took a step back. It broke the spell for Gail, and she blinked. Was she being too intense? Holly seemed about to speak when Frankie stuck her head back through the lobby door.

‘Hey Peck,’ she shouted, ‘stop making heart eyes at the doc and come take a look at this.’

Gail flushed pink. She wished she hadn’t because it made it seem like she’d been caught out. ‘I should go,’ she said hastily, gesturing redundantly toward the lobby doors on the other side of which Frankie stood with arms crossed and an impatient expression. Holly nodded a little too effusively. It was awkward between them now. Gail could blame Frankie’s crassness but something had made Holly pull back even before Frankie .

Gail took one and then two steps away, then turned around. What if Holly hadn’t read her text? What if she still thought Gail had a girlfriend called Harley waiting for her at home?

‘I’m by myself.’ Shit, that didn’t come out right, Gail thought. It made her sound pathetic. Indeed, Holly looked at her with a smile that was caught somewhere between bewilderment and compassion.

‘The thing is my parents don’t speak to me anymore,’ Gail tried again. ‘When the pandemic hit they called in some favours and got Steve released on home detention but on the condition he stay at their place. So I don’t see him, even though he doesn’t blame me for sending him to jail. And I’m not seeing anyone and not just because of the pandemic. So, so you see I’m on my own,’ Gail held out her hands in a gesture of hopelessness that was more about her garbled explanation than the fact of her solitude. ‘And that’s a good thing right. A clean slate.’

‘Peck!’ Frankie stuck her head back into the lobby. She wasn’t known for her patience at the best of times.

Gail moved then, giving Holly a little wave that even she found weird, and heading out of the lobby. Holly didn’t follow immediately but Gail didn’t have time to consider why because as soon as she stepped outside she was assailed by Frankie.

‘Security camera,’ Frankie pointed above the entrance doors. ‘This is the only way into the building apart from the secure underground carpark so if Sam was here it will be on video.’

‘Dov’s at the station. I’ll get him to chase up the building management,’ Gail was already pulling out her phone and only noticed Holly had walked past when she heard her speaking to one of the lab techs. Dov’s phone went to voicemail so Gail left a message. By the time she’d finished the forensic van was pulling out on to the street.

‘So what’s with you and the doc,’ Frankie nodded in the direction of the van. ‘I didn’t think you’d get involved with a married woman.’ 

Maybe Frankie’s friend hadn’t told her the full story of Holly’s wedding or more likely, Gail decided, Frankie was messing with her.

‘Like it ever bothered you, Anderson.’

‘That’s the thing, it doesn’t bother me. But you,’ she paused and regarded Gail for a moment and waved her hand in Gail’s direction, ‘you’ve got a lot of morality shit going on.’

Gail rolled her eyes.

‘Just be careful,’ Frankie’s voice softened just a tad.

Shit, did Frankie really care? Clearly, she actually believed Holly was married married and Gail wasn’t about to disabuse her of the notion. Generally she found the less she shared with Frankie about her personal life the better. Frankie liked to collect scraps of information she could use against you. Gail imagined she had quite the dossier on her colleagues at 15.

They went to their separate cars then and Gail reached the station just ahead of Frankie. She didn’t wait for the detective but headed straight for the pen.

‘You owe me big time, Peck,’ Dov said, looking smug. ‘Have I got some dirt on Sam Ramirez.’

‘Not sure how that works. Last time I looked we’re both paid to do policing,’ Gail was in no mood to play along. Dov looked so deflated she almost relented. But before she could open her mouth she found herself being punched in the arm hard enough that it would bruise.

‘You’re no fun, Peck,’ Frankie grinned as Gail rubbed her bicep. ‘What’d you find, Epstein?’

‘Well, Venturesome is a successful company but I’m surprised it’s not in receivership.’

‘What? How does that work? Frankie asked.

‘Lots of clients on the books and lots of billable hours it someone has been siphoning the profits.’

‘Sam?’ Gail asked.

‘Impossible to tell without more digging. I’m guessing he and Paul both had access to the accounts. Looks like it’s been going on for the past year.’

‘But wouldn’t Paul have noticed?’ Gail asked.

‘Maybe that’s what got him killed,’ Dov suggested. ‘The business has two accounts. One looks like it’s used for operational expenses—wages, bills and things like that. Any profits go into the second one, which is the account the money disappeared from. Small amounts at first until recently when it was pretty much cleaned out.’

‘How much money are we talking about?’ Gail asked.

‘Nearly quarter of a million.’

‘Shit,’ Frankie whistled through her teeth. ‘That’s not small change.’

‘What were they keeping the money for? Bonuses?’ Gail asked.

‘Maybe,’ Dov shrugged, ‘it could be they were planning on expanding the business or investing, maybe buying their own office space.’

‘I still don’t get how Sam would have hidden this from Paul.’

‘Or Paul from Sam,’ Dov suggested but Gail looked doubtful. She was certain if anyone was ripping off the business it had to be Sam. 

‘Maybe one of them took sole responsibility for the finances,’ Dov continued. ‘It wouldn’t be hard to mock up fake accounts and as long the wages were still being paid the other partner might have been none the wiser.’

‘Okay, but where did the money go?’

‘That’s the thing—bank cheques made out to a John Smyth.’

‘Fake name,’ Frankie pronounced.

‘And did John Smyth deposit these cheques?’ Gail asked.

‘Yep. He has a account at the National Bank in Burlington but the balance is only $98.’

‘I guess we know where we’re going first thing in the morning,’ Gail turned to Frankie.

‘Nuh-uh,’ Frankie shook her head. ‘You’re going to the morgue. I’ll take the bank. Oh, and Dov any luck on that security camera footage?’

‘Yeah, I got onto the building management. The cameras are operated by a private security firm but management has given us permission to view the footage. We should be able to get it tomorrow.’

‘Is it worth speaking to Sam again tonight?’ Gail asked Frankie.

‘Nah, let’s see what else we turn up first.’

‘Yeah, okay,’ Gail agreed, quite happy to call it a night but half thinking they should strike now before Sam had time to compose a plausible story. 

‘Okay, I don’t know about you two losers,’ Frankie said as she swung out of the pen, ‘but I’m going home to resume what was shaping up to be a very promising evening until a body turned up.’ She waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

‘Man, why does she do that,’ Dov shook his head in disbelief once Frankie was out of earshot.

‘Because she’s an ass,’ Gail said, and smiled at the memory of Holly saying exactly that not one hour ago. ‘And hey thanks for your work on this.’

Dov looked pleased. ‘Like I said you owe me. Chloe said I’m not allowed to let you leave the station until she gets a chance to speak to you.’

‘And you do everything the Disney Princess tells you.’

‘Give and take. It’s what you do in relationships Gail. You should try it sometime.’

Gail screwed up her face. ‘You see that’s why I’m single.’

‘Oh yeah,’ Dov challenged. ‘I thought it was because no one measured up to a certain doctor.’

‘Word of advice Epstein,’ Gail shook her head slowly as if pained by Dov’s ignorance, ‘pop psychology is about as insightful as the sentimental drivel in a greeting card.’

‘What? That doesn’t make any sense’ 

‘You’re going to have to work that one out all by yourself because I’m going to the bathroom,’ Gail flapped her hand dismissively. ‘Anyway, Holly’s married.’ Oops, she probably shouldn’t have said that. Dov’s mouth opened and closed, and then opened and closed again. Gail left before he summonsed a response but in the corridor she practically ran smack bang into Chloe.

‘I just saw Frankie in the carpark,’ Chloe said without even greeting Gail or apologising for almost knocking her over. For a tiny woman she sure could have an impact. 

‘Should I be congratulating you?’ 

‘Frankie told me Holly’s married.’ Chloe looked as heartbroken as a four-year old Gail felt when the hunter shot Bambi’s mother, indeed when Gail had let a tear and then another slide down her cheek an irritated Elaine had scolded ‘it’s just a movie.’ Not that Gail ever thought about that, although she wondered what her therapist would make of it. 

Okay, start again, Gail told herself, deciding instead that Chloe couldn’t have looked more crestfallen than if Gail had told her Dov had finally eloped with Chris. Come to think of it, the three of them were practically a truple. Probably the only thing holding them back was the fact that Gail suspected that if Chloe was to introduce a third person into her relationship she’d opt for a woman over Chris.

‘Did you know?’ Chloe continued. 

‘What?’ Gail furrowed her brow. She had quite forgotten what Chloe wanted, having become caught up in imagining the drama that would ensue if Chloe was indeed in a truple, although she suspected Dov would be the biggest drama queen. Had she inadvertently stumbled on something. ‘Do you think a truple is a good idea?’ she asked Chloe. There, nobody could accuse her of not caring.

‘A truple? Has Holly asked you to be in a truple?’

‘What? No! What the hell are you talking about Price?’

‘I was talking about the fact that Holly is married.’

‘So,’ Gail shrugged.

‘So how does that make you feel?’ Chloe’s concern was such that her eyebrows veered toward one another so dramatically they were in danger of becoming a mono brow.

‘What are you moonlighting as my shrink now,’ Gail kept walking and Chloe had to hurry to keep up with her.

‘Somebody needs to check in on you. Wait, you have a shrink,’ Chloe stopped dead.

‘Not what I said Price.’ Gail wagged her finger but didn’t look back at Chloe. Nobody knew she was seeing a therapist, not even her mother, and Gail wasn’t about to confess all to Chloe. 

She had started making regular appointments after Holly left. At first it was about Holly’s departure and the way their relationship had imploded, but with Holly gone Gail began having nightmares about Perick again. Then after Steve went to jail, Gail’s parents stopped talking to her and for a time she drank heavily and had a few ill-considered one night stands (of which Frankie was the first). Ultimately though therapy was about making her a better mom for Sophie and look how that turned out.

‘But,’ Chloe scurried to catch up again. She was like an annoying insect—no matter how much you swatted it away it wouldn’t stop bombarding you, finding any bit of exposed skin to land upon and feed off. ‘How do you feel?’

‘Dandy.’

‘I don’t believe you, Gail,’ Chloe said as sternly as she could. ‘For four years you’ve put on a convincing front. You’ve dated other women and everyone thought you and Vicky were perfect for each other, but I could tell something or should I say someone was missing.’

Gail scrunched up her face. Did Chloe really know her that well? They had reached the bathroom now and Gail turned to face Chloe.

‘Holly’s getting a divorce.’

‘What,’ Chloe’s face lit up. ‘Wow! Is that why she’s back in Toronto. Are you the reason for the divorce? Has she come back for you?’

Gail held up her hand. ‘Chloe, enough. I really need to pee, and unless you want to follow me into this toilet stall and wipe my ass, I suggest you go back to your desk and do the detective work you’re actually paid to do.’

‘But,’ Chloe protested as Gail slammed the stall door in her face. Had she unleashed a monster? It was probably stupid to tell Chloe about the divorce.

‘Gail,’ Chloe’s voice was wheedling.

‘What?’ Gail was really busting now but no way was she peeing with Chloe standing on the other side of the door.

‘Will you promise to give Holly another chance.’

Gail could have told Chloe it was none of her business. That it was a two way street. In fact, if anything it was Holly who needed to be willing to take another chance on Gail, to trust that she wouldn’t cut and run. After all it was a pattern. Had Chloe even stopped to consider (probably not) that it might be presumptuous to think Holly was still interested in Gail? But because she needed to pee so badly, Gail pointed out none of these things.

‘If I say yes will you go away?’ she asked instead.

‘Of course,’ Chloe said sweetly. ‘But only if you promise you mean it.’

‘What are we six?’

‘Promise Gail.’

‘Okay, okay. I promise. Happy now?’

‘You need to say it,’ Chloe insisted.

‘Oh for fuck’s sake! I promise I will give Holly a second chance.’

‘Or else I’ll never eat another donut in my life.’

‘Yeah whatever. Now will you go!’

I’m backing out the door.’

Gail sighed as she released a steady stream of urine, not certain which of the two—emptying her bladder or Chloe’s departure—was the greater source of her relief. Before she had time to decide, she heard a victory whoop coming from the corridor. Damn that interfering Price.

*******************

Gail had only been home for a short time—in fact only long enough to wash her hands while singing happy birthday twice over and then feed an insistent Harley—when her phone pinged with a message.

Harley is cute, Holly had written.

Taking a punt, Gail decided to call her.

‘I didn’t wake you,’ Holly sounded a little guilty when she answered.

‘Nope, I only just got back.’

‘Same. We decided to get everything prepped for the autopsy tomorrow. Get a head start. I guess you’ll be observing.’

Gail laughed. ‘I see you’ve heard about Frankie’s allergy to the morgue.’

‘She has quite the reputation here. If you mention her name, my colleagues chorus Frankie who.’

Gail laughed. Frankie would hate that. Not that Frankie minded having a reputation, or the fact that people spoke about her behind her back, but Gail was certain Frankie believed it was solely because of her sexual conquests and not her shortcomings. She wasn’t sure how Frankie would react if she discovered she’d become the butt of jokes at forensics.

‘Does Frankie think the morgue is haunted?’ Holly asked.

Gail shrugged but of course Holly couldn’t see so she said, ‘Who would know.’

‘She is an ass.’

‘Did you call me just to talk about Frankie?’

‘Um, you called me.’

Oh right. Gail felt like an idiot. ‘Why’d your hang up on me before?’

‘Why’d you care so much that I was married?’ Holly countered.

‘I asked first.’

Holly didn’t reply. There was silence and it stretched a little too long.

‘Are you still there,’ Gail asked finally, ‘you haven’t hung up on me again?’

‘I didn’t,’ Holly started to protest then stopped herself. 

Gail blinked. Guilty as charged perhaps? ‘You thought Harley was my girlfriend didn’t you.’

‘No of course not, well, um maybe, a little,’ Holly conceded.

‘So that’s clear,’ Gail said sarcastically. Holly didn’t reply but swallowed nervously, loud enough for Gail to hear over the phone. So here they were—what did people say in books—on a precipice perhaps. 

When Gail was a teenager, she had visited the Elora Gorge with her parents. Someone had spray painted ‘jump’ in bright red lettering on a rock at the edge of a particularly steep section of the gorge, daring people to take the 24-foot plunge into the water below. Her mother had muttered about vandals but the water looked so clear and inviting that Gail had to fight the impulse not to take that leap. Now she felt as though she were standing on that rock, the bright red invocation to jump overwhelming caution.

‘I didn’t like the idea of you being married to someone else because,’ Gail said in a rush and then hesitated. Now she could hear Holly’s breathing, and something about the sound made her imagine Holly on the edge of her chair waiting for the revelation that could change everything. ‘Because,’ Gail forced herself to regroup, ‘because I really hope you’ll give me another chance. And, and,’ she stuttered a little, ‘if marriage is something you want, I wish it was me you wanted to marry, that it was me you had married.’

There it was done. She’d dived off the cliff.

‘Are you proposing Peck? You haven’t even asked me on a date.’ Holly’s response was flip and it made Gail’s heart sink. 

‘That was too much. I’m too much,’ she said heavily.

‘No, not for me, never.’ Where a moment before Holly had been offhand, her words were now earnest. ’Why do you think I came back to Toronto?’

Now it was Gail’s turn to deflect. ‘The state of the art facilities at the morgue.’

‘No,’ Holly laughed, ‘although they are very good.’

‘Nerd. So why did you come back?’

‘It must have been because I missed your insults.’

‘Nerd is a term of affection,’ Gail insisted. ‘Soo.’ She drew out the word and then left it hanging.

‘I wish I could see you,’ Holly said.

‘You will in eight hours.’ Gail had moved into bedroom now and was sitting on her bed. 

‘Not over an autopsy. I mean really see you. We need to talk.’

‘I guess we do,’ Gail tried not to sound guarded. Was wanting to talk a good or a bad sign? Granted if she was worried about her heart being trampled upon again, Holly probably felt just as vulnerable. ‘Maybe a date,’ she suggested tentatively.

‘Is that allowed?’

‘I don’t see why not. I mean we’ve worked together over the last couple of days, and my temperature gets taken every time I walk into the morgue.’ Gail started to pull off her socks and then stopped with one sock in her hand and the other still on her foot. It reminded her of something. ‘Ray,’ she said, suddenly realising why it was familiar.

‘Ray?’ Holly echoed.

‘You know how he had one sock half on, did you find the matching sock?’

‘Um I’ll have to double check in the morning.’ To her credit, Holly seemed not in the least thrown by Gail’s sudden change of tack. ‘But from memory it was on the floor in the lounge room.’

‘So, if you killed yourself would you do it wearing one sock?’

‘First, it’s not something I have ever contemplated but—.’

‘You know,’ Gail interrupted, ‘Chloe and I once got a call out to an attempted suicide where the guy had packed his clothes in a suitcase, stripped the sheets off his bed and folded them, and left a note with his parents’s contact information.’

‘He survived?’

‘Yeah. He’s a youth worker now. I see him around occasionally and he’s so grateful he didn’t succeed. But my point is when someone makes the decision to kill themselves they often become calm, even happy and they leave things in order, and they don’t die with one sock hanging off and a sink full of dirty pots.’

‘In some cases that true,’ Holly agreed, ‘some people convince themselves that suicide is the only way to release themselves from whatever torment they are experiencing, and they feel an enormous sense of relief at the thought of finally being rid of that torment. But others are in a wretched state or utterly weighed down by depression and that’s what drives them to kill themselves.’

‘But assuming Ray died of an opioid overdose, he would have had to think that through. Presumably he went into the bedroom, took the pills and lay down. If you’re organised enough to do that, then you wouldn’t leave one sock on and your shirt gaping open.’

‘Unless you were beyond caring. Anyway, there was no glass in the bedroom. We figured he took the pills in the kitchen and then went to lie down on the bed.’

‘And took the empty pill bottle with him and placed it on the bedside table.’

‘Shit,’ Holly exclaimed, ‘I should have picked that up.’

‘Any chance Ray’s socks ended up like they did because someone dragged him to the bed?’

Rather than replying to Gail’s question, Holly said, ‘Damn. That’s a rookie mistake. I’ve been hiding away in a research lab for too long.’ Clearly she couldn’t let go of her oversight.

‘Don’t beat yourself up about it,’ Gail said softly and then teased, ‘we don’t expect you to wrap up the investigation on your second day back. Maybe by the end of tomorrow but that should give you plenty of time.’

Holly made a noise that was half laugh but sounded mainly dubious.

‘Anyway what’s the bet it doesn’t mean anything,’ Gail said.

‘What’s the bet the pill bottle is wiped clean. I’m going make it a priority to dust that.’

‘Just don’t go back in and do it tonight,’ Gail said, knowing Holly’s work ethic.

‘How did you—‘ Holly started and then stopped abruptly before speaking again with much more animation. ‘You know I thought it was weird the bedroom blinds were open. If the neighbour’s right, Ray was alive at 6.30 pm so it would have been dark by the time he lay on the bed.’

‘And no matter your state of mind, I reckon most people would close the curtains,’ Gail continued Holly’s train of thought. ‘It’s instinct. You hate to think people can look in and see you.’

After that they spoke a little more about the case and touched on Gail’s sadness about Ray, although she brushed that off fairly quickly. When Holly yawned, Gail told her it was time to go to bed.

‘Yeah, I need to be at my sharpest tomorrow,’ Holly agreed, ‘otherwise the department might start wondering why they hired me.’

‘As if,’ Gail scoffed.

They said goodbye then and after Holly rang off it occurred to Gail that Holly had never really answered the question of why she was back in Toronto—she had implied it was for Gail but had never said that outright. Nonetheless Gail was certain that’s what Holly had meant or at least it was one of the reasons behind her return. Gail went to sleep nursing that conviction and far more content than she had been in a long time, actually if she were being honest, for as long as Holly had been in San Francisco.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Let me know what you think. Thanks again everyone who reads, leaves kudos and comments, subscribes and bookmarks.


	7. Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for taking so long to update. Life seems to both drag and rush at the moment and I haven’t really been in the right head space to write. A huge thank you to all who comment, bookmark, subscribe, leave kudos and read! Hope you enjoy this chapter. It has been a bit of a slog to write and I’m concerned it doesn’t flow that well but let me know what you think.
> 
> In these tough times, I hope everyone is okay. Take care, especially everyone on the frontline of this pandemic

……..

‘You’re here bright and early.’

Gail whipped her head around to see Helene Achebe standing behind her on a yellow x marked on the floor the requisite 1.5 metres away. The two of them were lined up in the foyer of the forensics building for a mandatory temperature check. There was quite a queue. Who would have thought forensics would be busy at this time of the morning. It was only just past 7 am and already it was bustling.

Helene was grinning in a way that was unmistakably flirtatious. Even though the pathologist had only ever mentioned dating men, Gail had always suspected Helene’s sexuality might be a little fluid. However, she had never imagined Helene had any interest in her. Sure, on occasion and after a few drinks at the Penny, Helene had flirted with her but with in such an exaggerated and playful way that Gail had thought it just a joke and would either roll her eyes or reply in kind. Now, she couldn’t figure out what Helene was up to. Only yesterday, she thought Helene was zeroing in on Holly, although that was probably just paranoia on her part. Maybe living alone during a pandemic was making Helene stir crazy. Based on what she had let slip in the past, she had an active dating life. No doubt COVID had put a dampener on that. 

How did you date in a pandemic? Gail was tempted to ask Helene for advice but decided against it, fearing it might just encourage the woman. Nevertheless, it was a pressing question not least because Gail had fronted up here early with the express intention of asking Holly on a proper date, trusting that the where and how of it would somehow take care of itself. Holly had not seemed adverse to the idea, in fact was keen, when Gail raised it last night, but then before anything could be settled they were distracted by the case. This morning Gail had set out for the morgue with this singular purpose, resolving not to be sidetracked or put off by anything, and so right now Helen’s presence was something of an irritant. 

Helene was still smiling as she waited for Gail to reply, angling her head a little to the side in a knowing way as if she had figured out exactly why Gail was here at this brittle hour. Then Gail was called forward by the nurse’s aide who took her temperature and waved her through. Helene caught up with Gail by the lifts. 

‘So Detective,’ she challenged, an eyebrow arching upwards, ‘who are you trying to impress by getting here at the crack of dawn.’ 

‘It’s hardly dawn,’ Gail scoffed. ‘And I could ask you the same thing.’

‘I work here. What’s your excuse?’ Helene seemed amused.

‘Autopsy.’

‘Ray Leeson? 

Gail gave a quick nod and then tried to suppress a yawn. She and Holly had talked past midnight, and between that and the early start, Gail hadn’t had nearly enough sleep. She wondered how Holly was holding up.

‘Late night?’ Helene asked, smirking just enough to make the question suggestive. Gail gave a noncommittal shrug. ‘I’ll take that as a yes. Clearly your dating life is more exciting than mine. Since COVID I’m usually tucked up in bed and asleep by 10.’

‘I’m not—,’ Gail started but then the lift dinged and she hurried inside.

‘Not what,’ Helene asked as she followed Gail.

‘Nothing,’ Gail shrugged again, deciding she didn’t have to explain herself to Helene, nor was her relationship status any of Helene’s business.

‘If you say so,’ Helene’s smile was smug, like she could see right through Gail. ‘Now, I happen to know the Leeson autopsy isn’t scheduled to start until 8 am. You are keen.’

Gail scowled.

‘I’m assisting Doctor Stewart,’ Helene added, not in the least put off by Gail’s expression. ‘Tell you what, come to my office and I can make you coffee. You look like you could use one and we still need to talk about my paper. Plus you’ve been very remiss.’ She wagged her finger at Gail.

‘About what?’

‘You haven’t given me the dirt on Doctor Stewart.’

‘Um,’ Gail swallowed. ‘I can’t do coffee. I have to see Rodney.’ 

‘Well, you won’t find him here. It’s Rodney’s rostered day off.’

Damn, Gail thought, why had she lied. She could have said she needed to talk to Holly about the case but then Helene might have guessed she had purposely set her alarm early and even skipped breakfast all in the hope of catching Holly before the autopsy. 

‘So, how does that coffee sound?’ Helene arched an eyebrow.

Fortunately at that moment the lift pinged again to announce they had arrived on the fourth floor where the pathologists had their offices. The lift doors slid open to reveal Holly in a white lab coat and with a harried expression. Her hair was out and she’d pushed her glasses up on top of her head. She looked so adorable Gail fought the urge to grin.

‘Gail?’ Holly said in surprise. ‘The autopsy isn’t for another hour.’

‘That’s what I told her,’ Helene piped up, ‘but don’t worry I can distract her until then.’

How had Helene made that sound so dirty? Gail’s eyes bugged. Holly frowned. 

‘Actually, can I borrow you for a moment, Detective?’ Holly said.

‘Then she’s all mine,’ Helene grinned. It was intended as a joke Gail supposed, but Holly’s frown deepened. Helene’s expression had taken on a wolfishness, which at any other time might have seemed quite comical.

‘This could take a while,’ Holly said curtly. 

Helene’s demeanour changed immediately. ‘Anything I can help with?’ she asked. It seemed like a sincere offer but Holly didn’t take it that way. 

‘No, I’ll see you in the autopsy suite,’ Holly turned swiftly in the direction of her office. 

It was the second time Gail had seen her brush off Helene. It was most unlike Holly to be rude to a colleague. In fact she had a reputation for being genial and approachable and it was this, as well as her willingness to share her considerable knowledge, that made people keen to work alongside her. Helene must have done something really bad to piss Holly off, Gail thought. Oh, shit, surely Holly didn’t think Helene was some sort of competition. That was laughable! 

Helene looked at Gail inquiringly but Gail shrugged like she no choice but to follow Holly. Then without warning Helene stepped right up to her and, before Gail could shrink back, raised a hand to smooth down Gail’s hair. At that very moment Holly turned, probably to check that Gail was behind her. In all the time Gail had known Holly she had never seen her glare like that at anyone. Gail might have even called it murderous.

‘Bed hair,’ Helene said by way of explanation and as if touching Gail was no big deal. ‘It was sticking up.’ Gail was frozen to the spot and Holly said nothing but continued to glare. ‘I better get to work then,’ Helene said, awkward now and suddenly keen to get away.

Holly had a spacious corner office with sweeping views of the city. It was large enough for a good-sized desk, a sofa and a coffee table. One wall was lined with largely empty bookcases—Gail imagined that Holly’s vast collection of medical and forensic texts were still in San Francisco. Would she have them sent here? Maybe Misha was having them boxed up right now. Would he do that for Holly? 

Gail realised she had no idea how close the two where. Close enough for Holly to marry him, she guessed. While Gail appreciated that Holly’s intentions were good—noble even—the fact was she had broken the law. While Gail might have done the same thing in similar circumstances, she wondered if Holly had stopped to consider or even bothered to find out that in the US marriage fraud was a federal crime. In fact it carried a five-year prison sentence and a $250,000 fine. Gail had checked. If Holly was found out, it could destroy her career. Regardless of anything else, right now it was probably smart for her to stay put in Toronto, especially if ICE had plans to come knocking on her door.

From the state of the office—spartan and neat—it was impossible to tell whether Holly planned on staying beyond this temporary appointment. Then again she always kept her workspace uncluttered, whether it was her desk or the lab. Gail had never set foot in this room during its previous occupant’s tenure—in fact few had had that dubious pleasure. Doctor Roberts discouraged visitors, in part because he was a cantankerous old fart but mainly so he wasn’t caught smoking. The fact that smoking had been banned in public buildings for over thirty years didn’t deter Roberts who puffed away with grim determination and had even tripped the smoke alarm on occasion. He was so irascible that anyone brave enough to broach the subject with him soon gave up. Holly’s appointment in his place was literally a breath of fresh air.

‘Wow,’ Gail gaped as she took in the view. ‘This is awesome.’ She heard the soft click of the door as it shut and turned to face Holly. ‘And it doesn’t even smell like an ashtray.’

‘There might have been some deep cleaning,’ Holly smirked. ‘So what’s the story with Doctor Achebe.’ She tried to make the question sound casual but the tightness in her voice betrayed her.

‘Story?’

‘She seemed kinda possessive of you.’

‘Of me? Holly, are you jealous?’ Gail started to laugh.

‘What’s so funny?’ Holly crossed her arms.

‘I was beginning to think she was interested in you,’ Gail’s lips quirked with amusement. 

‘But Helene’s straight.’

‘Exactly and so why would she be interested in me. Although to be fair, I thought I was straight until I met you.’ Gail pointed out, although judging from Holly’s expression this fact was hardly reassuring. As far as Gail knew no straight woman had ever turned gay for her and somehow she couldn’t see Helene being the first.

‘Oh. This is a mess.’ Holly sounded deflated. She frowned again and looked down at the floor before crossing the room to sit on the sofa. After a moment Gail followed her. She wasn’t quite sure what had gotten into Holly, but she suspected Helene was not the real problem.

‘Are you okay?’ she asked gently.

Holly shook her head. ‘I’m sorry. You must think I’m crazy. It’s just,’ she threw out her hands.

‘It’s just?’

‘I had it all figured out.’

‘You did?’ Gail said, even though she wasn’t certain what Holly was referring to.

‘I thought so. Don’t get me wrong—San Francisco was great but Toronto is home. For lots of reasons.’

Gail nodded but didn’t say anything, deciding it best to hear Holly out.

‘I missed my friends and my family. My nieces are growing so fast and my parents aren’t getting any younger. And I know you’re not a fan of Lisa’s,’ Holly made a rueful face, adding hurriedly ‘and with good reason.’

Gail made a noise that landed somewhere between concurrence and dissent. She wasn’t entirely blameless for how things played out that night at the Penny. Perhaps if she hadn’t come to Holly with such a damaged heart she would have trusted she meant more to Holly than just fun. After all, everything Holly had done up until that moment had indicated the complete opposite. Nonetheless Holly’s friendship with Lisa had never made sense. Sometimes a shared history was enough, she supposed, but even so Holly had none of Lisa’s elitism or vanity, and unlike Lisa, was possibly the least shallow person Gail had ever met.

‘I know Lisa behaved badly,’ Holly continued.

Gail tried to keep her face neutral but it was a struggle and Holly noticed.

‘Really, really badly,’ she added, ‘Lisa has done a lot of reprehensible things but that, that topped the list. But you know what, she’s also always been there when I needed someone.’ 

Unlike me, Gail thought to herself. Where Lisa was a constant and, according to Holly, something of a rock, what was Gail? She just let Holly down. Gail bit her lip. She wondered if she should interrupt to say—say what—apologise for her shortcomings perhaps—but Holly seemed so intent on finishing what she had to say that Gail remained silent.

‘The thing is I didn’t realise how much I’d miss hanging out with Lisa and Rachel or how important they are to me. And I want all of them—friends, family—to be around, to be in my life day to day not 3,000 kilometres away.’

Exactly 3, 640 kilometres by plane, Gail said to herself, and 4,239 by car. It was something of a mantra. She had even mapped out the fastest route by road and knew the departure times for flights to San Francisco or at least the ones that were scheduled pre-pandemic.

And I want—‘ Holly sighed. ‘Believe me the last thing I want to do is mess you around or make things awkward.’

Mess her around? Make things awkward? Gail didn’t like where this was going. It sounded very much like Holly was getting cold feet.

‘The thing is,’ Holly continued, seeming without taking breath, ‘I didn’t want it to be a big reason or the main reason for coming back but of course it is. I tried so hard not to count on it,’ Holly paused, which was probably a good thing because Gail was beginning to worry she might run out of oxygen. 

‘Count on what?’ Gail asked. She wasn’t entirely sure she was following Holly.

‘You.’

‘Me?’ Gail scrunched up her face. ‘You thought you couldn’t count on me?’ 

It was only fair, she supposed. Ignoring Holly’s calls and texts was hardly the behaviour of someone you could rely on. Still, she felt that familiar lurch, like a big lump of iron had been dumped in her stomach and was corroding her from the inside out. Not girlfriend material. It always came back to that. She felt the certainty from last night’s phone call ebb. 

Trouble was she had never really done anything to convince people of her staying power. After Nick dumped her at the altar, Gail decided that in future she would always leave first. Jump before she was pushed. She almost convinced herself there was some honour in that, a stoicism to be envied. Yeah and looked how well that worked out, she thought bitterly. At the first sign of trouble she’d walked away from the love of her life without a backward glance. Nor had it stopped her being blindsided by Chris or duped by Nick a second time—not that either relationship was ever going to last, if for no other reason than she was a lesbian. 

Occasionally Gail found herself speculating why it had taken her so long to come out. Obviously being gay didn’t exactly fit with the Peck narrative, but then again she had not always done what her parents expected. The almost Las Vegas marriage to Nick being a case in point, as was her decision to travel to Europe rather than go straight into the academy. Elaine had made it plain she thought both—dating Nick and the trip—no more than a childish rebellion. That wasn’t true either. At one time Gail had actually believed she loved Nick, and perhaps she had, although the hurts he’d inflicted made it hard for her to recall those feelings with any real clarity. 

For as long as Gail could remember she felt like she didn’t quite fit—in her family, at school, with her friends, at the Academy and even when she was first assigned to 15. It was as though the world chaffed at her like a too tight or scratchy sweater. So when she started dating guys and experienced that same jarring feeling of things being off kilter, she had not been surprised or looked for an explanation or even considered that men per se were the problem. No, she just assumed that as with everything else she was the ubiquitous square peg in a round hole. That was until Holly. 

Gail’s therapist, Patricia, worried that Gail saw Holly as a saviour. ‘I don’t believe my life can only be complete if Holly is in it’, Gail reassured Patricia, ‘but Holly helped me feel more comfortable in my skin, and not just because dating her made me realise I was gay but because she didn’t want to change me. Holly liked who I was. For that I’ll always be grateful.’ 

She didn’t add that Holly had taught her to know what love was, though of course it was only after Holly’s departure that she understood that. By then it was too late to act on for Holly had settled on a path that didn’t involve Gail, at least not as anything but a friend. And now, just when Gail had let herself believe Holly wanted her back, Holly was essentially saying she couldn’t be trusted.

‘I know I let you down before but I hope,’ Gail swallowed thickly, not entirely sure what to say to convince Holly that she could be steadfast, that in fact all she wanted to be was steadfast. In the past she would have said something barbed and then run before the depth of her hurt broke through the surly mask she slapped on like a second skin. It wouldn’t be hard to think of an excuse to leave—a fake call from Frankie or even that paper she’d promised to discuss with Helene—and then she’d be out of here. But for once she didn’t want to run. ‘I think I am someone you can count on,’ Gail continued, feeling more resolute now, ‘at least I’ve become that person.’

‘Oh,’ Holly was puzzled. ‘Oh, oh,’ she said again with sudden understanding. ‘I’m not worried about that.’

‘You’re not?’ That was unexpected. 

‘No. I didn’t want to count on you feeling the same way I feel about you in case you didn’t. But I had a vacation planned to see my family and I promised myself that while I was here I’d contact you and, I don’t know, scope out the situation, I guess.’

‘Scope out the situation?’ Gail smirked.

‘You know, find out if you were single and willing to take another chance on me. If you were, I’d go back to San Francisco but start looking for a job here. I calculated that would take at least six months, possibly even a year. In the meantime I imagined we’d talk and text and kind of ease back into a relationship. But before I could call you, the borders closed and this job came up and literally five minutes into my first day I run into you and 48 hours later you’re telling me you wished I’d married you.’

‘It wasn’t a proposal.’ Now Gail was frowning. ‘I just, I just didn’t want you to be married. The same way, I’m guessing, you were hoping I was single.’

Holly bit her lip. She looked so anxious that Gail wished she could pull her into a hug and promise that everything would work out. Could she make that promise?

‘Are you worried we’re being rash?’ she asked tentatively.

Holly nodded almost apologetically.

‘You know it’s well documented that in times of crisis—like the plague or wars—people behave impetuously. Because they could literally die at any moment, they don’t care about propriety or social conventions and basically act in ways they wouldn’t normally,’ Gail said, conscious she was beginning to sound like she was narrating a documentary on the history channel.

‘In what ways?’ Holly was looking at Gail curiously, though Gail suspected that was because of her word vomit rather than a keen interest in the topic. 

‘They did things that were taboo or risqué,’ Gail waved a hand about as she tried to come up with any other example than the one that had popped in her head. 

‘Okay, so like what things?’

‘Sex—apparently people had a lot of sex,’ Gail said the very thing she had been trying to avoid saying out loud.

‘You want to have sex?’

‘No! I mean yes. No!’ Gail shook her head vigorously. She was quite flustered. Holly was smirking now. 

‘Well, I guess that’s a relief,’ Holly said, ‘I’ve got an autopsy in half an hour, and I really wouldn’t want to rush you. Not when it’s been so long.’

Holly was teasing her. No, she was flirting wasn’t she? And what did she mean by so long? Since they’d had sex? Since Holly had had sex? Oh god, Gail had to stop thinking about sex.

‘And, call me square,’ Holly continued, ‘but no matter how big the crisis, I draw the line at sex in the office.’

Sex in the office. Gail blinked. Without warning, she was assailed by an image in which she was pushing Holly against the desk, and parting the lab coat before moving her hand—oh god she should stop right now. Gail felt the heat in her cheeks.

‘I made Gail Peck blush,’ Holly said, as if awed but clearly quite pleased with herself.

‘It’s not the first time,’ Gail shrugged, not wanting it to become a big deal.

‘Huh! When do you ever lose your cool.’

Around you, all the time, Gail wanted to say but the conversation had taken such a strange turn she held back. One minute Holly was confessing that Gail was a big reason she had decided to come back, and the next she was hesitant and now she was being downright flirtatious.

‘For me seeing you again is the only good thing to come out of this pandemic,’ Gail said earnestly, deciding it was more important to address Holly’s misgivings than continue bantering. ‘So the way I see it, we could play it safe and wait until this pandemic is done before we try to date or whatever, but god knows when that will be. Or we could, I guess, seize the day because who can predict what’s in the future.’ 

‘Be impetuous?’

‘Well, you could call it that. I prefer to say give in to the inevitable.’

Holly tilted her head to one side. She was smiling at Gail now. ‘When did you get so wise?’ 

‘What do you mean? I was always like this,’ Gail retorted.

Holly looked at her skeptically.

‘Well, I might have done some stupid things in the past but I sort of knew they were stupid and I didn’t care because I was hellbent on self sabotage. But being with you Holly, that was probably the smartest thing I ever did. And if you’re willing to give me another chance then I haven’t got any doubts.’

‘You think I have doubts?’ Holly seemed surprised. She shifted slightly so her knees were almost touching Gail’s. So much for social distancing—not that Gail cared right at this moment. 

Then Holly reached out her hand and gently, almost reverentially, cupped Gail’s cheek. Much like she had done the evening before when Holly had placed a steadying hand on her back, Gail found herself leaning into the touch. Holly was looking at her intently and Gail wondered if—no hoped—she might be about to kiss her. Then there was a sharp rap on the office door and the two of them jumped back guiltily. 

‘Hope I’m not interrupting,’ Helene stuck her head around the door. The woman just wouldn’t leave them alone, Gail thought, half tempted to tell her that yes indeed she was interrupting and to kindly fuck off. ‘Mac just dusted the pill bottle—it was wiped clean. So unless someone tampered with the crime scene, I think we might be looking at murder.’

……………………..


	8. Eight

Sorry for the long delay in updating – life has been crazy and I have a new boss who on some days (maybe most days) seems like Elaine Peck on steroids.

Hope you enjoy this

……………………………………………….

‘The victim was struck just above the hairline on the back of the skull,’ Holly indicated the place on Ray’s head. ‘It wasn’t obvious last night but you can see the discolouration from the bruising now.’

Holly, Helene and Mac had their heads bowed over the body. From Gail’s position in the glass booth above you might think they were praying that they were shrouded in layers of PPE. Mac was a broad nuggety man so was easy to distinguish, but it turned out Holly and Helene were of a similar height and build and it was only when Holly spoke that Gail confirmed it was her.

‘There is also bruising around and inside his mouth,’ Holly added. ‘Maybe someone forced him to take those pills.’

‘Can you swallow pills if you’re unconscious?’ Gail asked, remembering to hit the intercom button this time. 

‘Even a deeply unconscious person has the swallow reflex, though it’s possible the blow stunned Ray rather than knocked him out. The bruising doesn’t suggest he was hit with an object.’ Holly looked up towards the glass booth but her face was entirely obscured by safety googles, hood, mask and face shield.

‘Could he have been punched?’ Gail suggested.

‘It’s possible.’

‘So say Ray was punched in the back of the head and was semi-conscious or at least groggy,’ Gail mused, ‘what if the pills were crushed in water. Wouldn’t that make it easier to force them down?’

‘Definitely.’ Holly’s head bobbed up and down in agreement. ‘If Ray was disoriented, the killer might have passed it off as a glass of water.’

‘So maybe Ray blacked out and after he came round the murderer offered him water except it wasn’t just water.’

‘This is looking less and less like suicide.’ Helene said.

‘We should fingerprint the glasses in Ray’s apartment,’ Gail said, ‘although if the pill bottle was wiped clean, chances are so is the glass.’ She pictured the kitchen sink in Ray’s apartment piled high with dirty dishes and cups and glasses. The techs weren’t going to like it. 

‘But as you’ve said before, sometimes killers panic,’ Holly pointed out. ‘Particularly if the murder wasn’t premeditated.’

Had she said that? Gail couldn’t recall but the way Holly spoke made it sound as though they’d chewed the fat over numerous cases when in fact they’d only really worked together on the Robbie Robbin’s investigation. Sure Gail had been sent to the lab on errands, to chase up test results or deliver evidence (not least of which was the thumb) but as a detective she’d worked more cases with Helene than Holly. Was that something of a sore point, Gail wondered.

‘Pulmonary edema’, Holly said, pulling Gail out of her revery. 

Helene looked up towards the glass booth. ‘That’s—‘ she started to say but Gail cut across her.

‘Fluid in the lungs. Classic sign of an opiate overdose. I guess you’ll test fluid from the vitreous humor as well as his blood and urine,’ Gail said. She was showing off. Not long after they first met, Holly had explained how because the vitreous humor—the thick, jelly-like substance that fills your eyeballs—was inert and less prone to decay it could be tested for the presence of drugs or alcohol. Some forensic pathologists argued it was the best method for determining time of death. Gail wondered if Holly was smiling beneath her mask.

‘You are like a sponge detective,’ Helene said, the compliment familiar and flirty and now Gail wished she hadn’t felt the need to parade her forensic knowledge, which in truth was fairly limited. ‘But I believe the blood and urine samples may be all we require, don’t you agree Doctor Stewart.’ 

‘You know I think we should err on the side of caution and test all three,’ Holly demurred.

‘Why not,’ Helene replied breezily, sounding more like she was at a cocktail party than an autopsy.

‘It’s no trouble,’ Mac said, already labelling the sample containers. He looked at Holly, then to Helene and back to Holly who nodded. 

The autopsy didn’t throw up any other surprises, though Gail bristled when Helene observed that Ray wasn’t a healthy guy and wondered how people let themselves go like that.

‘A workplace accident,’ Holly said curtly, ‘he was largely incapacitated I believe.’

‘Large being the operative word,’ Helene, who herself was rail thin, observed.

Holly didn’t respond but bent her head back over the body. Gail blew out a breath. She used to think Helene was pretty cool, but over the past few days the pathologist had been acting like an ass.

Close to three hours had passed when Holly and Helene began the autopsy in reverse, filling the chest cavity with cotton wool and then the internal organs which had been placed in a plastic bag should they need to be retrieved for further examination. The ribs were reattached and finally Holly began to sew the Y-incision shut. 

‘So Detective, how’s Harley?’ Holly asked casually, mid stitch. She glanced upwards towards the viewing room.

‘Harley,’ Helene jumped in before Gail could reply. ‘Have you got a girlfriend stashed away somewhere you haven’t told us about Detective.’

‘Well, she lives with Gail,’ Holly said, a provocative edge to her voice. What was she playing at, Gail wondered, and when did Holly start playing games anyway.

‘Oh,’ Helene drew out the word.

‘But she’s not Gail’s girlfriend.’

‘This sounds intriguing,’ Helen laughed. ‘Is it a riddle. Don’t tell me—Gail’s trying to set you up. A blind date with her flatmate.’

‘As if,’ Gail said as she pressed the intercom. ‘Holly’s married.’ There, that would stop Helene fishing. Stop her right in her tracks. Gail wished she could see the pathologist’s expression. She’d bet her last dollar it was dumbstruck and—oh fuck, Holly most definitely didn’t want that piece of information to get out. Who was the dumb one now, Gail thought, wishing she could bang her head repeatedly against the glass window without attracting attention.

‘Married?’ Helene was surprised.

‘Not really,’ Holly said hurriedly. 

‘How is one not really married?’

‘Um.’ Holly had stopped stitching and was standing stock still. Gail imagined that under the mask she was now frowning. Damn, her big mouth.

‘Are you half married? Is there such a thing?’ Helene persisted. ‘I know, you had a commitment ceremony.’

‘Maybe Doctor Stewart wants to keep this private,’ Max suggested, his voice neutral.

‘Oh, I didn’t mean to pry,’ Helene gave a little laugh, trying for breezy but  
sounding unsure more than anything.

‘I’m getting divorced,’ Holly blurted out.

‘Oh, I’m sorry.’

‘Nothing to be sorry about.’

‘Okay. So a date with Harley might still be on the cards then,’ Helen barrelled on, once again animated and flirty. ‘In fact, it could be just what you need.’

Gail jabbed the intercom. ‘Harley is my cat,’ she said, not bothering to conceal her disdain.

Helene laughed. ‘Somehow I didn’t picture you with a pet.’

‘How do you picture her?’ Holly’s voice was cool now.

‘Not with a pet,’ Helene stammered slightly, evidently not completely immune to Holly’s tone.

Gail pushed the intercom again. ‘I need to call Detective Anderson,’ she said, which was not entirely untrue and gave her an excuse to escape whatever it was that was going on in the autopsy suite. 

Holly stopped stitching and looked up. ‘We’re almost done here. Meet me at my office in 20?’ she asked, her tone now a little uncertain like Gail might say no. As if, Gail thought to herself.  
……………

Frankie didn’t pick up which left Gail at a loose end for what turned out to be closer to 40 minutes. From what she knew the layers of PPE had to be removed slowly and carefully to avoid infection spread. It was possible Holly had decided to shower as an extra precaution.

Gail checked her watch. Dov would be on duty by now so she called his mobile. 

‘Enjoying the morgue?’ he asked.

‘Hmm,’ Gail was noncommittal. She really didn’t want to have a discussion with Dov about the state of play between she and Holly or how weird everything had become with Helene.

‘Okaay then,’ Dov said, sounding prissy. ‘I thought there might be certain attractions down there.’

Gail decided it best to ignore him. ‘Any luck with the security footage from Ray’s apartment?’ she asked.

‘I just finished reviewing it. Sam Rodrigues entered the building just after 6 pm. It doesn’t mean he had anything to do with Ray’s death though.’

‘Except Ray’s death looks like murder.’ Gail proceeded to fill Dov in about the pill bottle and the autopsy.

‘You told Frankie?’

‘Can’t get hold of her. I left a message.’

‘She must still be at the bank,’ Dov suggested.’If Sam is John Smyth and has been siphoning money from the company, maybe Paul and Ray found out.’

‘It gives Sam a motive,’ Gail said, ‘If Frankie comes into the station, get her to call me?’ Gail asked before disconnecting. She stared at the blank screen. Something wasn’t adding up. 

If Paul and Ray suspected Sam was ripping off the business, why didn’t Ray tell her that after Paul was murdered. It was possible Paul hadn’t confided in Ray but Sam had assumed he had and so killed both men. But then why wait for nearly two days after Paul’s death to murder Ray? Surely, Sam would want to silence Ray before he had a chance to speak to the police.

Gail’s stomach grumbled, reminding her she skipped breakfast. She didn’t have a lot of food options. The café in the building, which was surprisingly good, had been an early casualty of the Covid shutdowns. There were some vending machines in the corridor outside the firing ranges (ballistics being hungry work—a fact Gail could attest to) but they only took coins or notes and Gail had left home with just her card. Since the pandemic less and less people accepted cash and she wondered briefly if it may be one more thing Covid would consign to the past.

Gail was lurking outside Holly’s office when she heard Holly and Helene come out of the lift. The two women were chatting quite amicably now and Gail wondered what had shifted. Helene flashed Holly a smile, said goodbye and headed up the corridor in the other direction. 

Holly’s face lit up when she saw Gail. Sure enough, the ends of Holly’s hair were damp and, although her face still bore the faint indentations of the mask, it had a freshly scrubbed look which made Gail certain she had showered.

‘What’s going on?’ Gail inclined her head in the direction of Helene’s retreating figure.

‘Oh that,’ Holly laughed lightly, swatting her hand in the air as if to brush the whole thing away. ‘It’s quite a story. I’ll tell you later.’

‘No really,’ Gail pushed, ‘what is going on?’

‘Well,’ Holly paused and Gail fully expected her to launch into an explanation but instead she said ‘if we’re going to date you have to stop telling people I’m married.’

‘I guess that could be awkward for you.’

Holly narrowed her eyes.

‘Sorry, I am sorry really. It was stupid of me but Helene was being so annoying,’ Gail shuffled and gazed down at her feet. ‘Are you mad,’ she looked up tentatively to see Holly shake her head. ‘You should be. I also told Chloe and she’s probably told Andy and Andy can’t keep a secret.’

Holly winced. ‘And I guess Chloe was being annoying too.’

‘You have no idea!’ Gail exclaimed, thinking Holly empathised, after all who wouldn’t find Chloe annoying, but then seeing Holly was once again regarding her with narrowed eyes, decided she needed to quickly change tack. ‘But Helene—you know, what is the story? I think you owe me an explanation.’

‘I do huh?’ 

How did Holly manage to look sceptical and amused and gorgeous all at once? She tilted her head to the side and smirked, actually smirked.

‘Come on, Holly,’ Gail practically whined. Why was it that she could never keep her cool around Holly? Still it was enough for Holly to relent.

‘She and Rodney cooked up some screwball plan to get us back together.’ Holly rolled her eyes.

It transpired that Helene had asked Rodney if Gail was single. Rodney had become jittery and began to stammer, almost dropping the lung he was holding. ‘Do you fancy her?’Helene had asked. ‘No, no, no,’ Rodney shook his head empathetically, ‘but dd-Doctor Stewart. Doctor Stewart is coming back. You can’t date Gail’, as if that were explanation enough. Helene wasn’t satisfied though, and cajoled and persuaded until Rodney gave her the full rundown of Gail and Holly’s ill-fated romance.

‘She even knows about the thumb,’ Holly smirked again.

Now it was Gail’s turn to wince. That wasn’t exactly her finest moment, although not among her worst. There was that at least.

Once Helene heard the full story, she decided that she and Rodney must embark on a mission to reunite Gail and Holly. After much contemplation (probably all of 30 seconds, Gail thought) Helene hit on a plan. If she flirted with both women, they would become so consumed with jealously it would drive them back together. 

Gail laughed. ‘Yep, hare brained.’ She recalled though that Helene had once disclosed that she had been bought up on Bollywood romances, her maternal grandmother, Deepti, being a huge fan. Both Helene’s parents worked so it fell to Deepti to collect her granddaughter from school. Once home, Deepti would sit Helene at the kitchen table, feed her a snack and then hover while she completed her homework. Then and only then would Deepti allow them to watch a movie on the giant flat screen TV that adorned a wall in the living room. The two of them would snuggle into the couch, armed with a box of tissues and Deepti’s favourite assorted chocolates.

‘I just thought Helene had a screw loose,’ Holly said.

‘And I seriously thought you might take the bone saw to her or the skull chisel or maybe both.’

‘As if,’ Holly scoffed.

Now it was Gail’s turn to look sceptical.

‘Anyway, who’d have thought Rodney was our champion.’

‘Yeah, I didn’t see that coming,’ Gail smiled at Holly, who grinned back. It seemed like neither of them wanted to break out of this little bubble. 

Even a second time round (or was it a third—Gail wasn’t sure how to count their brief reunion before Holly went to San Francisco—this liminal moment, where the two of them had admitted their feelings yet not acted upon them, held all the thrill and maybe more of that first confession in the interrogation room. 

‘Soo,’ Gail drew out the word, her reluctance to leave palpable. ‘I guess I should get back to work. I want to take another look at the crime scene.’

‘Me too. Do you mind if I tag along.’

Gail’s stomach rumbled loudly enough that Holly heard.

‘Lunchtime?’ she quirked an eyebrow.

Gail felt herself blushing. ‘Skipped breakfast,’ she muttered.

Holly tipped her head to one side and regarded Gail.

‘Alright, alright. You don’t need to say it. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. The foundation in fact.’

Holly laughed. ‘Not what I was thinking.’

‘No.’

‘I was thinking Gail Peck must have a good reason to skip breakfast.’

‘I, I don’t need,’ Gail started and then stopped, her mouth sort of frozen open as though caught out.

Holly laughed again. ‘How about we get lunch on the way to Ray’s apartment and you can tell me all about it.’

Gail managed to shut her mouth and recover something of her swagger to say, ‘You buying’.

The lunch part was good but she wasn’t so sure about admitting why she had skipped breakfast to get to the morgue so early. Who was she kidding—she’d do anything Holly asked.

‘Will you drive?’ Holly said. They were inside the office now and Holly retrieved a coat hanging from a peg on the back of the door.

‘Sure,’ Gail agreed.

‘I don’t have a car yet so I’ve been getting around on a bicycle.’

‘A bicycle!’ Now Gail was amused.

‘It came with the Airbnb where I’m staying. It’s only a fifteen minute ride to work. And there are next to no cars on the road. I practically have the streets to myself.’

‘I thought you’d stay with your sister or parents,’ Gail said.

‘Once I started work here I didn’t want to put any of them at risk. My landlord was happy to give me a long stay. I think she’s grateful to have regular rent coming in at the moment.’

‘Hadn’t thought about that—the pandemic’s killed Airbnb too.’

They found a café selling takeaway coffee and burgers. Gail surprised Holly by ordering one made of cauliflower and chickpeas.

‘What?’ Gail demanded as Holly looked at her quizzically. ‘I heard eating less meat is better for the planet.’ 

‘A plant-based diet is much more sustainable,’ Holly agreed. ‘You know if everyone in the world ate red meat and processed food it would stretch the earth’s resources beyond breaking point. Studies have shown that beef is more than 100 times as emissions-intensive as legumes. Plus a plant-based diet reduces obesity, diabetes type 2 and heart disease and—‘ Holly stopped when she noticed Gail grinning. ‘You know this stuff, don’t you.’

Gail nodded. It didn’t stop her finding Holly adorable, not that she was game enough to say that yet.

The café was opposite a small park which was empty save for a guy with dreadlocks doing extreme yoga poses. They skirted around him and headed to a lone picnic table under a big oak tree in the opposite corner of the park. Gail plonked herself on the table top with her feet on the bench and Holly followed suit. They didn’t say much at first and Gail wondered if things had become awkward. She concentrated on chewing her burger, grateful for the distraction as much as for food.

‘These are pretty good,’ Holly said finally, holding up her half-eaten burger.

Gail replied, but her mouth was full and the words were swallowed with the burger.

‘Charming,’ Holly observed.

‘Well, you don’t love me for my manners,’ Gail said and then froze.

Holly had just taken a bite of her burger and began to cough so violently Gail had to pat her quite forcefully on the back.

‘Um,’ she said when Holly recovered. ‘That was, I didn’t mean, you know’, but she didn’t get a chance to finish (which was a good thing because really she had no idea where to go with this) for suddenly Holly leaned forward and kissed her. It was quick and even shy and was over almost before Gail had a chance to register it, not unlike that first kiss in the coat room, and like that kiss far too fleeting for Gail’s liking.

‘I can honestly say your table manners are not something I love about you,’ Holly sassed as she pulled back.

The blip of a siren on a squad car made them both jump away from each other. Gail wondered if she looked as guilty as Holly.

‘Are we in trouble. Maybe we were sitting too close,’ Holly said.

‘I think we definitely broke the two metre rule,’ Gail said. Had Holly forgotten she just kissed her?

‘Oh, yeah I guess we did.’ Holly smiled goofily.

Clearly not forgotten.

‘Probably just bored rookies,’ Gail shrugged and then groaned as she watched first Chloe and then Andy emerge from the squad car. 

‘Hate to disappoint you, but I don’t think I’m going to be your prison wife anytime soon,’ Holly quipped.

Chloe practically skipped across the park with a huge grin plastered across her face like she was Snow White or something. Did that make Andy, who was two steps behind, one of the dwarfs. Dopey perhaps, Gail grinned to herself.

‘Fancy finding you two here,’ Chloe squealed as she came to a stop two metres away from Gail and Holly. Andy, who was looking at Gail and Holly rather than watching where she was going, almost ran into the back of Chloe, dodging to the side at the last minute. Definitely Dopey today, Gail decided.

‘We were just leaving,’ Gail bunched up her burger wrapper and held out her hand for Holly’s trash. She could have sworn she heard Chloe say ‘aww sweet’ but when she whipped her head around Chloe was acting all innocent but in that studied way that made you certain she was anything but.

‘Why the hurry?’ Andy asked.

‘Why the interest?’ Gail countered.

‘We wanted to welcome Dr Stewart back.’

‘Well now you have.’ Gail pushed herself off the table and stood, hoping Holly was following. For some reason she wasn’t ready for Chloe and Andy to see her with Holly.

‘You know Gail, I thought you might be happy now Holly’s back,’ Andy turned to Holly. ‘She’s been grumpy ever since the split with Vicky.’

‘Vicky?’ Holly asked. 

‘Nobody,’ Gail and Chloe said in unison.

‘Nobody!’ Andy exclaimed, ‘she wanted to marry you.’ It wasn’t malicious—just typical unfiltered Andy, still there was an indignant tone to her voice.

‘She did?’ Holly asked, looking first to Andy and then Chloe and finally Gail.

‘Um,’ Gail hedged. Why did Andy and Vicky have to become such good friends. Gail was beginning to wonder whether Andy had a thing for her exes. Holly’s brow was furrowed. ‘Um,’ Gail repeated. She was saved by the appearance of the yoga guy she’d noticed on the way into the park.

‘Are these pigs harassing you?’ Yoga man asked but didn’t wait for a reply. ‘Don’t you pigs have anything better to do.’ He planted his feet apart and crossed his arms over his chest, ready for a confrontation. So much for the calming effects of yoga.

‘It’s okay, I know them,’ Gail waved her hand in the direction of Andy and Chloe.

‘You don’t have to put up with their crap,’ Yoga man insisted.

‘Unfortunately I do,’ Gail’s grin was mercurial. She was tempted to string this out but doubted Holly would play along.

‘No way, you’ve got rights, man. Don’t let them railroad you.’

‘Is that what you’re doing?’ Gail turned to Andy and Chloe, her voice syrupy. ‘Railroading me.’

‘Fascists,’ Yoga man didn’t wait for Andy or Chloe to respond. He was clearly warming to his topic. ‘Don’t you realise you’re just instruments of the military-industrial complex.’ He jutted his face towards Andy and Chloe, his arms still crossed.

‘Military industrial,’ Andy repeated slowly as if trying to puzzle out what it meant.

‘Get their badge numbers,’ Yoga man told Gail.

‘I don’t think that’s necessary,’ Chloe said, her tone placatory.

‘Yeah,’ Yoga man looked at her sceptically. ‘Like we’re gonna take advice from you. Are you even strong enough to hold a firearm. Man, they must be scrapping the bottom of the barrel down at recruiting.’

‘Gail,’ Holly touched her arm. ‘Maybe you should—‘

‘Report them! Yeah.’ Yoga man’s expression was fervent now.

‘Tempting as that is,’ Gail drawled

‘Gail’, Chloe remonstrated and Gail half expected her to stamp her foot. Andy had that wounded bewildered look she often wore around Gail.

‘I work with them,’ Gail pulled out her badge and showed it to Yoga man, who recoiled like she had the plague or Covid she supposed.

‘Fucking pigs,’ Yoga man shook his head. Then gathering as much saliva as he could, he spat on the ground right next to Andy’s boot and stalked out of the park.

‘Eww,’ Chloe said.

Andy lifted her boot gingerly. ‘I think he got me.’

‘So arrest him,’ Gail said tartly.‘Much as I’d like to discuss the spitball on your shoe, we’ve got work to do.’ 

‘Nice seeing you both,’ Holly said, effortlessly warm.

‘Maybe we can catch up some other time,’ Andy suggested.

Gail narrowed her eyes at Andy.

‘Yeah, you should join our zoom trivia comp. Most people play as couples but solo players get extra points,’ Chloe said excitedly. 

‘Yeah, like Holly will need them,’ Gail huffed.

Holly started to protest there was plenty she didn’t know but Chloe cut across her, saying ‘Gail won’t play with us anyone’, as though this explained her churlishness.

Where they in grade school?! Gail was about to retort before she realised Holly was thanking Chloe for the invitation and saying she might be able to persuade Gail to join her team.

‘I thought you did that already,’ Andy muttered and Chloe elbowed her in the ribs. ‘Ow,’ Andy exclaimed, rubbing her side.

Holly pretended not to hear, gracious to the last, but Gail glared at her idiot colleagues and marched off in the direction of the car.

‘So Vicky?’ Holly asked once they were back on the road.

‘Somehow I knew you’d lead with that,’ Gail twisted her mouth.

‘And?’

‘Old news. Over an age ago.’ Gail put the car into gear and pulled away from the curb.

‘But she wanted to get married’

‘And I didn’t so.’ Instead of finishing the sentence Gail shrugged.

‘So?’

‘So nothing.’

‘Uh huh,’ Holly didn’t sound convinced.

Gail sighed. ‘I didn’t feel the same way she did about me. It would have been wrong to marry her.’ 

‘But she asked you,’ Holly pushed.

‘Jeez Holly why are you so hung up on this,’ Gail exclaimed, banging her hands on the steering wheel. Could she tell Holly that when Vicky suggested they move in together (which it later transpired was intended as a precursor to a proposal), all Gail could think of was Holly. 

Vicky had been so right for Gail in so many ways but in the end not right at all. Was this the way Nick had felt when he left Gail at the altar? She’d never asked him, but at least she hadn’t jilted Vicky. It didn’t stop Gail feeling like a rebropate, even now, and she didn’t blame Vicky for avoiding her still. 

‘Sorry,’ Holly said after a moment. ‘It’s none of my business.’

‘It’s’ Gail faltered. She had come to a stop at a red traffic light, even though there were no other cars on the road and it wouldn’t have mattered if she’d driven straight through. A heavy silence stretched between the two women. ‘Do these lights ever change,’ Gail finally grumbled just as the lights turned green.

‘Evidently they do.’

Gail grunted. ‘It is your business,’ she said as she accelerated. ‘Or at least you’re part of the story.’

‘I am?’ Holly sounded surprised.

Gail nodded slowly. ‘Vicky was a good person and I hurt her and I’m not proud of that but being with her wasn’t right.’

‘Okay,’ Holly said slowly.

‘It wasn’t right because she wasn’t you,’ Gail plowed on as though Holly hadn’t spoken.

‘Oh,’ Holly said so softly Gail almost didn’t catch it.

‘Yeah, oh and I thought I’d never see you again so yeah, oh.’

‘Pull over.’

‘What?’ 

‘Pull over.’ 

This time Holly sounded so insistent Gail did as instructed, nosing to the curb outside a retail strip—among it a tattoo parlour, barber shop and a gaming arcade, each one shuttered tightly because of Covid. 

Incongruously in the middle there stood a bridal boutique, with two headless mannequins in the shopfront window, one in a wedding dress with an embroidered bodice and voluminous tulle skirt and the other in a figure hugging lace mermaid gown. Dust motes had gathered around the four-tiered wedding cake, which had been placed between the two mannequins, its white frosting and little piped roses looked real enough to eat. Crowning the cake were figurines of the bride and groom, except the groom had face planted into the cake. Perhaps, the bride pushed him, Gail thought. She would have done it to Nick if she’d had the chance. Punching him in the face had been satisfying though. 

Gail guessed Holly wanted to get out of the car and she could only suppose it was because all that talk of Vicky had been too much. It was both ironic and fitting that she had parked right outside the bridal boutique because, apart from that one time when Holly kissed her at Frank and Noelle’s wedding, by and large anything to do with nuptials spelled disaster for Gail. 

When she mentioned this to Patricia, the therapist had wondered whether Gail might be exaggerating, turning her head to one side in a way that jarringly made Gail think of Holly. Jarring because Patricia was at least fifty and in no way resembled Holly. She was short with rounded features and a figure you might describe as plump, though her expensively tailored clothes made it hard to to be sure. Gail had proceeded to tick off all her wedding disasters on her fingers. Nick had jilted her, she’d slept with Frankie after Andy’s wedding and then there was Jinx, who Gail met at Celery and Oliver’s wedding, a year to the day after Holly left.

Jinx (not her birth name and something Gail might have called a cat not a person) was a witch friend of Celery’s. Against her better judgement, Gail found herself going home with her after the reception. It led to an ill-fated month where every encounter proved how ill matched they were, particularly as Jinx hated the police with a passion. When she wasn’t advocating defunding the police or railing against the alt right (which Gail could get onboard with but not as the chief topic of conversation), Jinx seemed capable only of conversing on a spiritual plane, all of which irritated Gail intensely. They usually argued and then had not exactly hate sex, but something close to it. It did nothing to dispel their animosity towards one another but weirdly compelled them to come back for more. At least the orgasms were intense. When Gail ended things, she was sure Jinx had cursed her, not that she believed in any of that of course. In any case, wasn’t she cursed enough?

Then there was Vicky. She had never actually proposed but had planned to, had been on the brink when Gail did a runner. It seemed like plenty of people knew about Vicky’s intentions but it was only later, when Gail was clearing her stuff from Vicky’s apartment, that she discovered the ring Vicky had purchased. Apparently, or so Andy told Gail, Vicky and her mother June had a wedding planner lined up and were considering putting a deposit down on a venue. They had been so sure of Gail, something Gail couldn’t say of herself. She felt as though the ground shifted beneath her from day to day, allowing no such certitude. 

Nonetheless, her inability to repay their faith in her made Gail feel even more like a louse. No other word for it. Normally the mothers of people she dated didn’t exactly warm to her—she guessed Nick wasn’t the only one who didn’t see her as the girlfriend type—but June was different. Amiable and intelligent, she had made Gail feel welcome from the start and Gail had liked her too. In fact, she found herself drawn to all of Vicky’s family, discovering in them the warmth and conviviality absent from anything Peck. 

With hindsight, Gail realised that it was this chance to be part of Vicky’s family that made her push aside any misgivings about staying with Vicky. She convinced herself that the whole package was enough, and anyway she would probably go her whole life and never fall like she had for Holly. In an unguarded moment on a stakeout, Gail had confessed as much to Frankie, who shrugged and said ‘Holly was your first. Everyone idealises their first’ and Gail had decided that for once Frankie was right.

Gail wanted to tell Holly all of this, but in her own time, not because of Andy’s indignant outburst or her own lame protestation that Vicky was no one. Gail hadn’t intended to sugar coat it or play down her part for she had broken Vicky’s heart—plain and simple. More than anything, she wanted to make Holly understand how deeply she regretted that and yet how impossible it had been to do otherwise. 

Gail realised that she and Holly had been sitting in silence for some time. She shifted her gaze from the bridal shop to Holly, who for her part was looking at Gail intently, her expression hard to read. Gail opened her mouth to say something, anything to make Holly stay but before she could speak Holly launched herself across the console and kissed Gail fiercely. 

Gail was so surprised she didn’t immediately react and Holly started to pull back, an apology forming on her lips, but Gail would have none of that. She placed her hands on Holly’s cheeks and leaned in to kiss her, softly at first and then with increasing pressure, until there was nothing tentative about it. For both of them it was like years and years of feelings—those feelings which had been quashed and pushed aside—surfaced now in that car and in that kiss. 

It’s quite possible they would have stayed like that for some time, kissing a little like their lives depended upon it, had they not been interrupted by the blip of a police siren. Gail looked up to see the squad car inching by impossibly close—Andy at the wheel with a huge grin and Chloe with her face pressed against the passenger window, giving a big thumbs up.

Gail swore and Holly laughed but then Gail’s phone rang, and the car was filled with the sombre strains of the Funeral March. She didn’t answer immediately and Holly looked at her quizzically. Finally Gail hit the call button and said ‘Hello Elaine’.

…………

More to come soon I hope...let me know what you thought of this


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